
aass^JA\ 
Book.V -SX*^ 



-2- 






y 

FIRST CENTURY 

OP 

NATIONAL EXISTENCE; 

THE u:n"ited states 

A3 

THEY WERE AND ARE: 



The progressive development op MINERAL WEALTH, including not only the precious and the useful metals, but 

Coal, Petroleum, and the various Alkalies and Earths in use; The PUBLIC LANDS, their sales in each tear, 

L.\.SD Grants to Koads, Uailroads, State, and Educational Purposes, their rapid settlement, the formation of 

States and Territories, founding of Cities and Commercial Centers ; INTERNAL TRADE ; ODIIGRATION, 

its increasing tide and the regions mostly sought dt Immigrants; BANKING, its successive systems 

AND changes ; Fire, Life, Accident, and other INSURANCE, with statistics ; LITERATURE and 

AUTHORS ; BOOKS, PERIODICALS, and NEM'SPAPERS ; The FINE ARTS, Painting, Sculpture, 

Architecture, and Engraving; DOMESTIC LIFE, Dwellings, Furniture, Food, Costumes, 

&c. ; TELEGRAPH ; EDUCATION, Higher and Elementary, Libraries, Museums, and 

Scientific Collections ; BENEVOLENT and HUMANITARIAN INSTITUTIONS, &c. 



AN APPENDIX. 



[The pkogrbss op all the RELIGIOUS DENOMINATIONS and SECTS, their pecull\r Doctrines and ORDmANCES, 
THEIR Forms of Church Government, Mode of Worship, &c., &c. 

THE whole carefully PREPARED BY 

%xi ^wxmtxii Corps ni Scientific anltr Sittrarjr ®iit. 

Superbly illustrated with over Two Hundred and Twenty-Five Engravings, executed by the most accomplished Artists in the Country, 

carefully printed from Steel Electrotypes and in Chromec", nr finir;;^^:^^ 

y^l^ OF CONG/ff^ 




HARTFORD, CONN.: 

1=' TJ :o Hi I s la: B XD lO'S' i_i. s TE :]b::b z isrs. 

FRANCIS DEWING & CO., SAN FRANCISCO, CAL. 

1872. 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, by 

L. STEBBIKS, 

In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 



SUBJECTS AND AUTHORS. 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES, 

Including Gold, Silver, Copper, Lead, Zinc, Iron, Coal, Petroleum, &c., showing the 
Localities, Richness of Ores, Methods of Mining, Smelting, and uj)plying the different 
Minerals to practical uses, with their values, &c., &c. 

FUR TRADI^', various kinds and values of Furs. 

HAT MANUFACTURE. 

By JAMES T. HODGE, Geologist 
Of the late Pennsylvania, and other Geological Surveija ; Contributor to Apple- 
tori's " New American Ct/clopa^dia " on the name Subjects. 



LAND, SETTLEMENT, INTERNAL TRADE. 

Western Settlement, Population, and Land Sales, Canals and Railroads, Expenditures, 
Lake Cities, Reciprocity, Annual Sales of Land hy the Government, River Cities, 
Atlantic Cities, Date of Settlement, Population, Valuation, Manufactures, Exports, 
Imports, Growth of New York, Express Business. 

BANKS, UNITED STATES MINT, AND INSURANCE. 

Bills of Credit, Government Issues, United States Bank, State Banks, Suffolk System. 
Safety Fund, Banks, Free Banks, Number of Banks in Each State, Aggregate (capi- 
tal, Clearing Houses, Private Banking, New National System, «S:c., Establishment 
of Mmt, Standard of Coins, Laws Regulating Coinage, Precious Metals hi the Coun- 
try, Insurance, — Fire, Marine, Life, Accident, &c. 

EMIGRATION. 

General Migrations, Colonies and United States, Number of Aliens arrived in the 
United States from "1820 to 1856, and their Nationalities, Landing in New York, 
Future Homes. 

AUTHORS, BOOKS, NEWSPAPERvS, BOOK-BINDING. 
PRINTING PRESSES, TELEGRAPH. 

Writers, — including Theologians, Statesmen, Novelists, Historians, — Short Sketches of 
their Lives, their Literary Pi-oductions ; Newspapers, — Dailies, Weeklies, Periodicals, 
Book Trade, Publishing, Jobbing, Retailing, Selling by Subscription, Book-Bind- 
ing, Printing Presses, Telegraph. 

By THOMAS P. KETTELL. 
SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 

Domestic ^Vrchitecture, Furniture, Food, Dress, Social Culture, &c. 

By FRED E R 1 C K B PERKINS. 



SUBJECTS AND AUTUOUS. 

ARTS OF DESIGN. 



Painters, Sculptors, Engravers, &c. 

By T. ADDISON RICHARDS, Artist, 
Editor of Appletovi's " Railway Guide,^^ Correspondent of " Harper^ » 

Magazine.''^ 



Progress of all the Religious Denominations, and Sects. 

By Dr. L. P. BROCKETT. 



EDUCATION, 

Including the History and Statistics of Free Schools, Common Schools, Grammar Schools, 
Academies, Colleges, Professional Schools of Theology, Law, Medicine, War, Teaching, 
Engineering, Agriculture, Mechanics and Fine Arts ; with Special Schools for Deaf 
Mutes, Bluid, Idiots, Juvenile Criminals, and Orphans, and Supplementary Educational 
Agencies and Libraries, Lyceums, Lectures, &c. 

By HENRY BARNARD, LL. D., 

Superintendent of Common Schools in Connecticut and Rhode Island ; Chan- 
cellor of the State University of Wisconsin; and Editor of the 
" American Journal of Education^ 



ELECTRIC TELEGRAPH, 

Its Inventors, and Progress, 

By GEORGE B. PRESCOTT. 

Electrician of Western Union Telegraph Company. 



FIRE INSURANCE, 

Giving in a historical form the progress and growth of Fire Insurance in the United 
States from the first organized Companies up to 1871, with valuable tables, showing 
the magnitude of the business, rates, losses, profits, «fcc.. 

By D. A. HEALD, 

Vice-President of the Home Fire Insurance Company of N. Y. 



LIFE INSURANCE, 

Showing the progress of the business under the Stock and Mutual principles, from the 
tii'st organized Company up to 1871, with valuable tables showing the immense 
magnitude of the business, per centage, losses, profits, &c., 

By JACOB L. GREENE, 

Secretary Connecticut Mutual Life Insurance Company, Hartford, Ct. 



CONTENTS 



MINING INDUSTRY. 

PAGE 

Introductory Remarks 17 

Iron Works in Virginia previous to 1622. ... 17 

First Blast Furnace in 1702 17 

Iron 18 

First Trial of Anthracite Coal for manufac- 

facturing 18 

Great Britian produces more than half of the 

■whole product of the world 19 

Iron produced from 1828 to 1840 20 

Materials employed in the Manufactcre. . 20 
Ore in Pennsylvania, Maryland, Tennessee, 

New York, Canada, and Wisconsin 21 

Consumption of Charcoal per Ton of Iron. . . 22 

Quantities of Air used in Blast Furnaces .... 23 

Furnaces in the Lehigh Valley 23 

Distribution op Ores 24 

Ores in New Jersey 25 

Ores in Pennsylvania 26 

Great Chestnut Hill Ore-bed 27 

Ores in Maryland 28 

Ores in Southern States 28 

Ores in Western States 29 

Iron Manufacture 32 

Description of Blast Furnaces 32 

Wrought Iron 36 

Puddling 37 

List of RoUing MiUs in 1856 40 

Mills making Railroad Iron in 1856 40 

Boiler Plato and Sheet Iron Manufactories in 

1856 41 

Iron Wire 41 

Nails 41 

List of Nail Manufactories in 1856 42 

Steel 43 



PAGE 

Cast Steel 44 

Table of Iron Works in operation and aban- 
doned in 1856 45 

Production of Pig Iron 46 

Distribution of Furnaces by States 46 

Product of Wrought Iron 46 

Value of the Iron product in 1856 47 

Copper 48 

New Jersey Mines 49 

Tennessee Mines 50 

Lake Superior Mines 51 

Product of the Pittsburgh and Boston Com- 
pany Mines from 1852 to 1860 53 

Minesota Company 55 

Product of do from 1848 to 1860 56 

Statistics of Lake Superior Mines 57 

Copper Smelting 58 

Useful Applications op Copper 60 

Cost of Smelting Copper 60 

Manufacture of Brass 62 

Gold 63 

Vermont Mines 64 

Virginia do 64 

North Carolina Mines 69 

Georgia do 69 

Pike's Peak do 70 

California do 71 

Australia do 71 

Annual production of Gold in the World at 

the time of its discovery in Cahfornia. ... 71 
Length and Cost of Artificial Water-courses in 

California '?2 

Quartz Mining "^3 

Table of annual productions of the Mines of 

California from 1848 to 1857 73 



mi$~ 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

Yarious Machines for Mining purposes ... 74 
Tables showing the amount of Gold coined by 
the U.S. Government, and where produced 78-9 

The uses of Gold 80 

Lead. , 81 

Localities of Mines 82 

Iowa Mines. • . 84 

Table showing the shipments of Lead from 

the Upper Mississippi from 1821 to 1841. 85 
Table showing the production and importa- 
tion of Lead from 1832 to 1858 87 

Lead Smelting 87 

Useful Applications of Lead 91 

Lead Pipe 91 

Shot and Bullets 92 

American process of making Shot, 93 

White Lead 94 

List of American White Lead Works 96 

Zinc. 96 

New Jersey Mines 96 

Pennsylvania do 97 

Metallurgic Treatment and Uses 98 

European Manufacture 100 

List of the Silesian Company Works 102 

Schedule of the cost of Zinc Ore on ship- 
board at Antwerp 103 

Zinc Paint 103 

Description of Manufacture 104 

Platinum 107 

Iridium and Osmium 110 

Mercury, 110 

CaUfornia Mines Ill 

Almaden Mine in Spain Ill 

Total annual production of various Mines. . Ill 

Metallurgic Treatment 114 

Useful Applications op Mercury 114 

Silver . . 115 

Cobalt. IIC 

Nickel 117 

Chrome or Curomium 118 

Manganese 119 

Tin 119 

CO.VL 120 

Varieties of Coal 121 

Relative value of different kinds of Coal. . . 124 
Geological and Geographical Distribution 

of Coal 124 

Amount op Available Coal 133 

Extent of Coal Fields in different States 133 

Relative amount of Coal Fields of Europe 

and America 134 

Table showing annual amount of Lead pro- 
duced in Pennsylvania and Maryland from 
1820 to 1860 134 



PAGH 

Transportation of Coal to Market 135 

Table of Railroads and Canals constructed 
for transporting Coal 142 

Useful Applications of Coal 146 

Illuminating Gas 147 

List of Gas Co.'s, with amount of Capital,&c. 148 
Process of making Gas 152 

Gas for Steamboats and Railroad Cars. . . 156 

Hydrocarbon or Coal Oils 156 

Table of Coal Oil Works in the United States 157 
History and method of manufacture 158 

Petroleum or Rock Oil 163 

Petroleum in the United States 164 

Daily yield of seventy-four Oil Wells 165 

List of Petroleum Refining works 170 

Land Settlement, Internal Trade 169 

Land Sales in Ohio 170 

Canals in the West 172 

First Locomotive built in this Country 174 

Population of Land States in 1830 and in 1860 175 
Detroit and Chicago 177 

River Cities, Atlantic Cities 180 

Statistics of New Orleans 182 

New York, Telegraph, Gold 185 

Comparative Exports of the Atlantic Cities 187 

Harnden E xpress 188 

Growth of New York 190 

Bulls and Bears 195 

Hotels in New York 197 

BANKS IN THE UNITED STATES. 

Bills of Credit 198 

Congress Issires, $358,465,000 199 

Ten Thousand Dollars for a Cocked Hat 1&9 

First Bank of the United States 201 

One Hundred and Twenty Banks go into ope- 
ration in four years 201 

Table of relative growth of Banks 203 

Table of Number of Banks, and Capital. . . 204 

Banks Located in New York 204 

Alabama with Carolina, do 203 

Clearing House System 209 

Table of Capital of all Banks 209 

UNITED STATES MINT. 

Establishment op the Mint, Stan-dard of 

Coin, Ac 212 

Yalue of the Dollar and the Pound Sterling 

in Colonial Paper Money 213 

Alloy of Gold Coin 214 

United States Coinage 214 

California Gold 215 

Weight of Silver Coin 216 



CONTENTS 



I'ACiK 

Amount of New Silver Coin 2 l(i 

Deposit of Domestic Gold at United States 

Mint and Branches 216 

Amount of Specie in 1821 217 

INSURANCE. 

Fire, Marine, and Life 219 

Number and Capital of New York Companies 222 
Capital, Premiums, and Risks of tlie Fire Com- 
panies of the United States 223 

Marine Insurance 224 

Life Insurance 225 

Comparative Rates of Domestic Life Insurance 2 2 G 

IMMIGRATION. 

General Migration 228 

Colonies of the United States 228 

Early Immigration 229 

Naturalization Laws 230 

Number of Immigrants for the last forty 
years, with their Birth-places 231 

European Migration — French and German. 232 

Decrease in Population of Ireland 235 

Allowance on Passage 236 

Saving part of the Passage Money 239 

Landing in New York — Future Homes 240 

Table of Immigration 240 

Location of Immigrants in the United States 242 
Amount of Money received in the United 

States by Immigrants 243 

Amount of Money remitted by Friends in 

aid of Immigration 243 

Number of Natives arriving from abroad . . . 244 

SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 

Introduction 245 

Domestic Arcuitecture 245 

Description of Buildings 246 

Houses South 247 

Introduction of Anthracite Coal 248 

Nott's Stoves 248 

Furniture, Furnishing Goods, &c 249 

China, Glass, Silver Forks, &c 251 

Food, Cooking, &c 252 

Cooking Stoves 253 

Dress 253 

Soci.\L AND Mental Culture 259 

BOOKS. 

Book Trade, Publishing, &c 262 

First Booksellers in America 263 

American Bible Society 264 



PAGE 

Harper and Brothers, Appletons 204 

Number of Book Publishers in the United 

States 2G5 

Gift-Book Sales 265 

Sale of Old Books 266 

Subscription Sales 267 

Circulation of Popular "Works 267 

School Book Trade 263 

Reprints and American Books 269 

Book Binding 269 

Books of Wood and Metal 272 

Description of Binding 273 

Writers of America 274 

Theologians, Statesmen, Novelists, Histo- 
rians 274 

Early Founders of the Colony Good Wri- 
ters 274 

Works of James Madison 275 

Judge Marshall, Story, Wheaton, John Quincy 

Adams, and otliers 276 

Cooper, Hawthorne, Willis 279-280 

Prescott and Bancroft 284 

Lady Authors 285 

Printing Press 286 

Frankhn's Press 286 

Hoe and Adams Presses 297 

Types 298 

Machines for Casting Types 298 

Stereotype, Electrotype 300 

Newspapers 301 

City Papers 303 

Number of Papers in the United States. . . . 307 

Telegraph — Origin 303 

Morse, House, and Hughes Machines 311 

First Lines 313 

Various Lines and Companies 313 

Penalty for refusing to transmit Messages.. 314 
Comparison between Telegraphs and Couriers 315 

THE ARTS OF DESIGN IN AMERICA. 

Horace Walpole 316 

American Art begins with Benjamin West. . 317 

Stuart, Robert Fulton 318 

Sketches of the Lives of Prominent Painters 

318 to 325 

Sculptors 326 to 328 

Engraving 332 

Dr. Anderson 332 

Copper- Plate Engraving 333 

American Bank Note Company 333 

Descriptions of Engraving 334 

Lithography, Daguerreotype, Academies of 
Art, &c 335 



CONTENTS 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITU- 
TIONS. 

Development in the Colonial Period 337 

Early Efforts in Virginia 337 

do do in New York 338 

Early Efforts in Colonies of Massachusetts 

and Connecticut 338 

Town Action in behalf of Schools 339 

Colonial Legislation and Action in the 

order op their Settlement 341 

Yirginia 341 

Massachusetts 342 

Rhode Island, Connecticut 344 

New Hampsliire 345 

New York 346 

Maryland 347 

New Jersey, Pennsylvania 348 

Delaware, North Carohna 349 

South Carolina, Georgia 350 

Results at the Close of our Colonial His- 
tory 350 

Revolutionary and Transition Period 351 

Opinions and Efforts of Noah "Webster, George 
Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jeffer- 
son 352 

Opinions and Efforts of James Madison, John 
Quincy Adams, Benjamin Rush, John Jay, 
De Witt Chnton, Chancellor Kent, Daniel 

Webster 353 

Progress of Common or Elementary Schools 355 

Letter from Noah Webster 355 

do do Heman Humphrey 356 

do do Joseph T. Buckingham 359 

do do Dr. Nott 362 

Recollections of Peter Parley 363 

The Homespun Era of Common Schools, by 

Horace BushneU, D.D 369 

Letter from William Darlington, M.D., LL.D. 370 

Schools in Philadelphia 371 

School Holiday in Georgia 373 

Old Field School or Academy in Virginia. . . 377 
Remarks 380 



PAGE 

What is Education? 383 

Remarks on the Common School System in 

the United States 384 

Academies, High Schools, &c 388 

Letter of Josiah Quincy 389 

Address of Hon. Edward Everett 391 

Colleges 392 

Professional, Sclentific and Special Schools 393 

Theological Schools 393 

Law Schools 394 

Medical Schools 394 

Military and Naval Schools 395 

Normal Schools, &c 397 

Schools of Science for Engineers, &c 400 

The Lawrence School 401 

Schools of Agriculture 402 

Commercial Schools 403 

Schools for Mechanics 403 

Fine Arts — Female Education 404 

School-Houses, Apparatus, and Text-Books 406 

The Horn-Book 413 

New England Primer 414 

Webster's SpeULng Book 416 

School Apparatus 422 

Libraries , . . 423 

Astor Library, Boston City Library 424 

New York MercantOe Library 425 

Table of Libraries in the United States 429 

Lyceums, &c 432 

Institutions for the Instruction of Deaf 

AND Dumb 434 

Rev. Thomas H. Gallaudet 435 

Institutions for the Blind 439 

Institutions for Idiots 440 

Institutions for Education of Orphans. ; . . 445 

Reformatory Institutions 446 

Educational Statistics of the United States. . 451 

Table of American Colleges. : 452 

do Theological Schools 454 

do Law Schools, Medical Schools 455 

do Deaf and Dumb Institutions 456 

do Blind Institutions 457 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Page. 



Frontispiece, 

American Iron Works, 22 

Smcltini,'- Pij,' I™" 22 

iM^rj^cs at Clmions 22 



58, 
59, 
60, 
^ Gl, 



Flattening Maciiine 22-f/62, 

Chestnnt Hill xMinc 27 

View of Baltimore, (Steel Plate) 28 

Puddlinsx 32 

Casting Pis Iron 32 

Blast Furnace 32 

Casting Steel Ingots 32 

Steam Hammers 40 

Forges and Trip Hammer 40 

Stone Hammer 5-4 

Hydranlic Mining 65 

Tunneling at Table Mountain, Cal 66 

Large Rueker 67 

Stamps for Crushing Gold Ores, 68 

Hurkt! Rocker 74 

Yosemite Valley 74 

Father of the Forest 74 

Gold Mining 74 

Proj) ects in California 74 

(Chinese in California 74 

Crushing Mill, or Arrastre 75 

Scotch ilt-arth P'urnace 88 

Apparatus for Working I'latinnm 108 

Viewof New Almailcn Quicksilver ]\Iincs 113 
Map of the Anthracite region. Pa. IMincs, 126 
Map showing Different Strata, in Coal 

Regions, Pa 130 

Map showing Different Strata in Coal 

Regions, Pa 132 

Mt. Pisgah Plane, Maiich Chunk, Pa. . . . 137 

Great Open Quarry of the Lehigh 138 

Baltimore Company's Mine, Pa 139 

Colliery Slope 139 

View at Mauch Chunk 139 

Descending the Shaft 140 

Fire Damp Explosion 140 

Inundations 140 

Breaking of Props 140 

Undermining Coal 142 

Breaking off and Landing, 142 

Drawing out Coal 142 

Fire in the Oil Regions, (Chromo) 161 

Oil Wells 168 

Indian Encampment 1 70 

Saw Mills 172 

Niagara Falls, (Steel Plate) 175 

The Farm 176 

Victoria Bridge, (Steel Plate) 1 78 

City Hall, New York 182 

New York Stock Exchange 182 



Academy of Design, New York 182 ".112, 

Cooper Institute 183"^M 13, 

Gov. Stuy vesant Mansion 1 84 114, 

First-Class Dwelling 1 84 115, 

A. T. Stewart's Residence 184 116, 



63, 
64, 

Nee' 

67, 
68, 
69, 
70, 

71, 

72, 

73, 

"4, 

75, 

,76, 

^77, 

78, 

79, 

80, 

81, 

82, 

83, 

84, 

85, 

86, 

87, 

88, 

89, 

90, 

91, 

92, 

93, 

94, 

95, 

96, 

97, 

98, 

99, 

100, 

101, 

102, 

103, 

104, 

105, 

106, 

107, 

108, 

109, 

110, 

111, 



Page. 

View of Broad Street 1 85 

Interior Carpet House 190 

Interior of a Dry Goods House. 200 

Cajiitol at Washington, (Steel Plate) 200 

U. S. Bank, Pa., (Steel Plate) 206 

Senat(i Chamber 211 

Coining Room 216 

Adj usting Roi )m 216 

Fire, (Chromo) 218 

Buildings on Fire 219 

Amoskeag Fire Engine 224 

Hand Engine without Suction 225 

Hand Engine fore and aft Brakes 225 

Hand Engine Side Brakes 225 

Hook and Ladder 225 

Hose Carriage 225 

Life Insurance Illustrated, Mr. Jones 226 

" " Mr. Smith 226 

" Mr. Clark.... 226 

City Hall and Park, N. Y., (Steel Plate) 232 

L-Jsli Endgrants 240 

L-ishmen in Common Council, N. Y 240 

Japanese 244 

Wood's Moulding Machine 247 

Old Styles Furniture 248 

New Styles of Furniture ' 248 

Kitchen of 1770 252 

" 1870 252 

Fashion, 1 776 255 

Evening Dress, 1780 255 

Fashion, 1780 255 

1785 255 

Evening Dress, 1795 255 

1797 255 

Fashion, 1800 255 

1805 255 

Children, 18(»5 255 

Fashions, 1812 255 

Boys, 1812 255 

Men, 1812 255 

Women 1815 256 

Men, 1818 256 

Women, 1820 256 

Men, 1825 256 

1828 256 

Winter Dress, 1833 256 

Boys and Girls, 1833 256 

Men, 1833 256 

Women, 1833 256 

" 1840 256 

Men, 1844 256 

Women, 18.50 256 

Fashions from 18.50 to 1860 256 

" 1868 to 1869 256. 

Pleasant Home, (Steel Plate) 260' 

Noah Webster, (Steel Plate) 266 

Laying on Gold 272 

Embossing Press 272 

Sawing Machine 273 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



Page. 

117, Finishing Eoom 273 

118, Gentlemen Authors 283 

119, Lady Authors 283 

120, Franklin Statue 286 

121, Franklin Press 289 

122, Washington Press 289 

123, Hand Press, Steam Inking Machine, ... . 290 

124, Improved Inking Apparatus 290 

125, Patent Single Cylinder Machine 291 

126, Eight Cylinder Machine 292 

1 27, Ten Cylinder Machine 293 

128, Four Color Machine 294 

129, Bed and Platen Power Machine 295 

130, Railroad Ticket Machine 296 

131, The Bullock Printing Press 306 

132, Editorial Room 306 

133, Composing Room , 306 

134, Press Room 307 

135, Stereotyping Room 307 

136, Telegraph Apparatus 315 

137, Gentlemen in Fine Arts 322 

138, Women in Fine Arts 322 

139, Fishing at Newport 330 

140, Country View 330 

141, Sprhig.' 331 

142, Summer 331 

143, Fall 331 

^ 144, First Map Engraved 332 

. 145, Map of the Present Day 332 

146, School, Interior of, in 1770 372 

147, " " " 1870 372 

148, Contraband Schools 380 

149, Founding of Dartmouth College. 392 

150, School Houses as they were 406 

151, " " " 406 

152, " " as they are 407 

1 53, Village School House 407 

154, Brown School House, Hartford 407 

1 55, View of Girard College 408 

156, Packer Collegiate Institute 409 

157, " " " Garden Front.. 410 

158, " " " Interior 410 

1 59, Norwich Free Academy 411 

160, Chicago City University 412 

161, Horn Book of the 18th Century 413 

162, John Hancock 414 

163, Burning of John Rogers at the Stake.. . . 414 

164, In Adam's Fall we sinned all 415 

165, Heaven to Find, the Bible Mind 4i5 

166, Christ Cmcified, for Sinners died 415 

167, The Deluge Drowned, the Earth Around, 415 

168, Elijah hid, by Ravens fed 415 

169, The Judgment made Felix afraid 415 

170, As Runs the Glass 415 

171, My Book and Heart must never part. . . . 415 

172, Job Feels the Rod 415 

173, Proud Korah's Troop was Swallowed up, 415 

174, Lot fled to Zoar 415 

175, Moses was he who Israel's host led through 

the Sea 415 

176, Noah did view the Old World and New, 415 

177, Young Obadias, David, Josias 415 

178, Peter denied his Lord and cried 415 

179, Queen Esther .sues 415 

180, Young Pious Ruth left all for Truth, 415 

181, Young Samuel dear, the Lord did fear. . . 415- 

182, Young Timothy learnt Sin to fly 415 

183, Vasthi for Pride was set aside 415 

184, Whales in the Sea 415 

185, Xerxes did die 415 

186, Wliile Youth doth cheer, &c 415 



Page. 

187, Zacheus he did climb the Tree 415 

188, The Boy that Stole Apples 416 

189, Country Maid 417 

190, Cat and Rat 417 

191, Fox and Swallow 418 

192, Fox and Bramble 418 

193, The Partial Judge 418 

294, Bear and Two Friends 419 

195, Two Dogs 419 

196, Eye, Nose, &c 420 

197, Arm, Hand, &c 420 

198, Eagle's Nest 420 

199, Vertebrates 420 

200, Articulates 420 

201, Mollusks, 420 

202, Radiates 420 

203, Animals of the Seal Kind 420 

204, Birds 421 

205, Flowers 421 

206, Geological Chart 421 

207, School Apparatus as it was 422 

208, School Apparatus as it is 422 

209, Desk and Settee Combined 422 

210, Platform Desk 422 

211, Assistant Teacher's Desk 422 

212, Tinsby's Globe Time Piece 422 

213, Numeral Frame 423 

214, Eureka Wall Slate 423 

215, School Globe 423 

216, Black Board Support 423 

217, Crayon Holder 423 

218, Assembly School Desks and Settees 423 

219, Boston City Library, Exterior 425 

220, " " Interior 426 

221, Alphabet, Deaf and Dumb, A 436 

222, " " " B 436 

22.3, " " " C 436 

224, " " " D 436 

225, " " " E 436 

226, " " " F 436 

227, " " " G 436 

228, " " " H 436 

229, " " " 1 436 

230, " " " J 436 

231, " " " K 436 

232, " " " L 436 

233, " " " M 436 

234, " " " N 436 

235, " " " 436 

236, " " " P 436 

236, " " " Q 436 

2.37, " " " R 436 

238, " " " S.... 436 

2.39, " " " T 436 

240, " " " U 436 

241, " " " V 436 

242, " " " W 436 

243, " •' " X 436 

244, " " " Y 436 

245, " " " Z 436 

246, " " " & 436 

247, American Asylum for Deaf and Dumb.. . 437 

248, Pennsylvania Asylum for Blind 440 

249, Asylum for Idiots, Syracuse, N. Y 444 

250, Cam]) Meeting 

251, Baptism by Immersion, (Steel Plate).... 
'252, Baptism by Sprinkling. " " .... 

253, South Church, New Britain, Ct 

254, First Church built in Connecticut 

255, Ancient Dutch Church in Allwny 

257, Ancient Swedish Church in I'hiladelphia, 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 

The mineral wealth of the American 
colonies does not appear to have been an 
object of much interest to the early settlers. 
Congrejrated near the coast, they were little 
likely to become acquainted with many of 
the mineral localities, most of which are in 
the interior, in retjions long occupied by the 
Indian tribes. The settlers, moreover, prob- 
ably possessed little knowledge of mining, 
and certainly lacked capital which they could 
appropriate in this direction. Some discov- 
eries, however, were made by them very 
soon after their settlement, the earliest of 
which were on the James river, in Virginia. 
Beverly, in his " History of the Present 
State of Virginia," published in London in 
1705, makes mention of iron works which 
were commenced on Falling Creek, and of 
glass-houses which were about to be con- 
structed at Jamestown just previous to the 
great massaci'e by the Indians, in 1622. 
This undertaking at Falling Creek is referred 
to by other historians, as by Stith, in his 
"History of Virginia" (IVS^), p. 279. A 
Captain Nathaniel Butler, it appears, present- 
ed to the king, in 1G23, a very disparaging 
account of the condition of the colony, men- 
tioning, among other matters, that " the Iron 
Works were utterly wasted, and the People 
dead; the Glass Furnaces at a stand, and in 
small Hopes of proceeding." The commit- 
tee of the company, in their reply to this, 
affirm that " great Sums had been expended, 
and infinite Care and Diligence bestowed by 
the Officers and Company for setting forward 
various Commodities and Manufactures ; as 
Iron Works," etc., etc. Salmon, in his 
'• Modern History" (1746), vol. iii, pp. 439 
and 468, refers to the statement of Bever- 
ly, mentioning that "an iron work was set 
up on Falling Creek, in James River, where 
they found the iron ore good, and had near 
brought that work to perfection. The iron 
proved reasonably good ; but before they got 
into the body of the mine, the people were 
Vol. II. 2 



cut off in that fatal massacre (of March, 
1622), and the project has never been set on 
foot since, until of late ; l)ut it has not had 
its full trial." This author also refers to the 
representations of the Board of Trade to 
the House of Commons, in 1732, as contain- 
ing notices of the iron works in operation in 
New England. From various reports of the 
governor of Massachusetts Bay and other 
officials of this colony, there appear to have 
been, in 1731, as many as six furnaces and 
nineteen forges for making iron in New Eng- 
land, as also a slitting mill and nail factory 
connected with it. 

The first blast furnace in the colonies ap- 
pears to have been built in 1702, by Lambert 
Despard, at the outlet of Mattakeeset pond, 
in Plymouth County, Massachusetts, and a 
number more were afterward set in operation 
to work the bog ores of that district. Their 
operations are described in the " Collections 
of the Massachusetts Historical Society" for 
1804, by James Thacher, M. D., who was 
himself engaged in the manufacture. In 
Rhode Island and Providence Plantations, 
the same kinds of ore were found and work- 
ed at about the same period. Alexander 
gives the year I7l5 as the epoch of blast 
furnaces in Maryland, Virginia, and Pennsyl- 
vania. These enterprises were regarded 
with great disfavor in the mother country. 
In I7l9 an act was brought forward in the 
House of Lords, forbidding the erection of 
rolling or slitting mills in the American col- 
onies, and in 1750 this was made a law. 

In Connecticut, Governor Winthrop was 
much interested in investigating the charac- 
ter of the minerals about lladdam and Mid- 
dletown. In 1651 he obtained a license giv- 
ing him almost unlimited {)rivileges for 
working any mines of "lead, copper, or tin, 
or any minerals ; as antimony, vitriol, black 
lead, alum, salt, salt springs, or any other 
the like, * * * to enjoy forever said 
mines, with the lands, woods, timber, and 
water within two or three miles of said 
mines." And in 1061, another special grant 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



was made to him of any mines he might 
discover in the neighborhood of Middletown, 
It does not appear, however, that he derived 
any special advantage from these privileges, 
although he used to make frequent excur- 
sions to the different localities of minerals, 
especially to the Governor's Ring, a moun- 
tain in the north-west corner of East Had- 
dam, and spend three weeks at a time there 
with his servant, engaged, as told by Gover- 
nor Trumbull to President Styles, and record- 
ed in his diary, in " roasting ores, assaying 
metals, and casting gold rings." John Win- 
throp, F.R.S., grandson of Governor Win- 
throp, was evidently well acquainted with 
many localities of different ores in Connecti- 
cut, and sent to the Royal Society a consid- 
erable collection of specimens he had made. 
It is supposed that among them Hatchett 
found the mineral columbite, and detected 
the new metal which he named columbiuni. 
At Middletown, an argentiferous lead mine 
was worked, it is supposed, at this period, by 
the Winthrops, and the men employed were 
evidently skilful miners. When the mine 
was reopened in 1852, shafts were found 
well timbered and in good preservation, that 
had been sunk to the depth of 120 feet, and, 
with the other workings, amounted in all to 
1,500 feet of excavation. The oldest Ameri- 
can charter for a mining company was grant- 
ed in 1709, for working the copper ores at 
Simsbury, Connecticut. Operations were 
carried on here for a number of years, the 
ore raised being shipped to England, and a 
similar mining enterprise was undertaken in 
I7l9, at Belleville, in New Jersey, about six 
miles from Jersey City. The products of 
the so-called Schuyler mine at this place 
amounted, before the year 1731, to 1,386 
tons of ore, all of which were shipped to 
England. At this period (1732) the Gap 
mine, in Lancaster county, Pennsylvania, 
was first opened and worked for copper, and 
about the middle of the century various 
other copper mines were opened in New 
Jersey; also, the lead mine at Southamp- 
ton, Mass., and the cobalt mine at Chatham, 
Conn. In 1754 a lead mine was success- 
fully worked in Wythe county, in south- 
western Virginia, and this is still productive. 
It is probable that, by reason of the higher 
value of copper at that period, and the lower 
price paid for labor than at present, some of 
the copper mines may liave proved profit- 
able to work, though it is certain this has 
not been the case with them of late years. 



The existence of copper in the region about 
Lake Superior was known, from the reports 
of the Jesuit missionaries, in 1660, and one 
or two unsuccessful attempts were made to 
work it during the last century by parties of 
Englishmen. The lead mines of the upper 
Mississippi, discovered by Le Sueur in his ex- 
ploring voyage up the river in 1700 and 
1701, were first worked by Dubuque, a 
French miner, in 1788, upon the tract of 
land now occupied by the city in Iowa bear- 
ing his name. 

Such, in general, was the extent to which 
this branch of industry had been carried up 
to the close of the last century. The only 
coal mines worked Avere some on the James 
river, twelve miles above Richmond, and the 
capacity of these for adding to the wealth 
of the country was not by any means appre- 
ciated. The gold mines were entirely un- 
known, and the dependence of the country 
upon Great Britain for the supply of iron 
had so checked the development of this 
branch of manufacture, that comparatively 
nothing was known of our own resources in 
the mines of this metal. The most impor- 
tant establishments for its manufacture were 
small blast fui'naces, working bog ores, and 
the bloomaries of New York and New Jer- 
sey, making bar iron direct from the rich 
magnetic ores. 

The progress of the United States in these 
branches will be traced in the succeeding 
chapters, one of which will be devoted to 
each of the principal metals. 



CHAPTER I. 

IRON. 

The early history of the iron manufacture 
in the American colonies has been noticed 
in the introductory remarks which precede 
this chapter. Since the year 1750 the re- 
strictions imposed upon the business by the 
mother country had limited the operations to 
the production of pig iron and castings, and 
a few blast furnaces were employed in New 
England and the middle Atlantic states. A 
considerable portion of the pig iron was ex- 
ported to Great Britain, where it was admit- 
ted free of duty, and articles of wrought 
iron and steel were returned from that coun- 
try. In 1771 the shipment of pig iron from 
the colonies amounted to 7,525 tons. By 
the sudden cessation of commercial relations 



19 



on the breaking out of tlie war, the country 
was thrown upon its own resources, but was 
illy prepared to meet the new and extraor- 
dinary demands for iron. The skill, experi- 
ence, and capital for this business were all 
alike wanting, and even the casting of can- 
non was an undertaking that few of the fur- 
nace masters were prepared to venture upon. 
The bog ores found in riymouth county, 
Mass., together with su{)plics from New Jer- 
sey, sustained ten furnaces ; and in Bridge- 
water, cannon were successfully cast and bored 
by Hon. Hugh Orr, for the supply of the 
army. They were also made at Westville, 
Conn., by Mr. Elijah Bachus, who welded 
together bars of iron for the purpose. The 
Continental Congress, also, was forced to 
establish and carry on works for furnishing 
iron and steel, and in the northern part of 
New Jersey, the highlands of New York, and 
the valley of the Ilousatonic in Connecticut, 
they found abundance of rich ores, and forests 
of the best Avood for the charcoal required 
in the manufacture. At their armory at Car- 
lisle, Pa., the first trials of anthracite for manu- 
facturing purposes were made in 1775. But 
the condition of the country was little favor- 
able for the development of this branch of 
industry, and after the war, without capital, 
a currency, or facilities of transportation, the 
iron business long continued of little more 
than local importance. The chief supplies 
were again furnished from the iron works of 
Great Britain, the establishment of which 
had in great part been owing to the restric- 
tions placed upon the development of our 
own resources; and while that country con- 
tinued to protect their own interest by pro- 
hibitory duties that for a long period exclu- 
ded all foreign competition, the iron inter- 
est of the United States languished under a 
policy that fostered rather the carrying trade 
between the two countries than the building 
up of highly important manufactories, and 
the establishment around them of perma- 
nent agricultural settlements through the 
home market they should secure, llencc it 
was that the manufacture in Great Britain 
was rapidly accelerated, improved by new 
inventions, strengthened by accumulated 
capital, and sustained by the use of mineral 
coal for fuel, almost a century before we had 
learned in the discouraging condition of the 
art, that this cheap fuel, mines of which 
were worked near Richmond in Virginia, 
before 1790, could be advantageously em- 
ployed in the manufacture. The natural ad- 



vantages possessed by Great Britain power- 
fully co-operated with her wise legislation ; 
and as her rich deposits of iron ore and coal 
were developed in close juxtaposition, and 
in localities not far removed from the coast, 
the iron interest became so firmly established 
that no nation accessible to her ships could 
successfully engage in the same pursuit, until, 
by following the example set by Great Britain, 
its own mines and resources might be in like 
manner developed. Thus encouraged and 
supported, the iron interest of Great Britain 
has prospered at the expense of that of all 
other nations, till her annual production 
amounts to more than one-half of the seven 
millions or eight millions of tons produced 
throughout the world ; and the products of 
her mines and furnaces have, until quite re- 
cently, been better known, even in the ex- 
treme western states, where the cost of 
" Scotch pig iron " has been more than 
doubled by the transportation, than has that 
of the rich ores of these very states. And 
thus it is the annual production of the Uni- 
ted States has only recently reached 2,000,- 
000 tons, notwithstanding the abundance 
and richness of her mines, both of iron ores 
and of coal, and the immense demands of 
iron for her own consumption. So great are 
the advantages she possesses in the quality 
of these essential materials in the production 
of iron, that according to the statement of 
an able Avriter upon this subject, who is him- 
self largely engaged in the manufacture, less 
than half the quantity of raw materials is 
required in this country to the ton of iron, 
that is required in Great Britain, " thus 
economizing labor to an enormous extent. 
In point of fact, the materials for making a 
ton of iron can be laid down in the United 
States at the furnace with less expenditure 
of human labor than in any part of the 
known world, with the possible exception of 
Scotland." ("On the Statistics and Geog- 
raphy of the Production of Iron," by Abram 
S. Hewitt, N. Y., 1856, p. 20). The tables 
presented by this writer, of the annual pro- 
duction, show striking vicissitudes in the 
trade, which is to be accounted for chiefly 
by the fluctuations in prices in the English 
market depressing or encouraging our own 
manufacture, and by the frequent changes in 
our tariff. 

"In 1810 the production of iron, en- 
tirely charcoal, was 54,000 tons. In 1820, 
in consequence of the commercial ruin which 
swept over the country just before, the busi' 



20 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



ness was in a state of comparative ruin, and 
not over 20,000 tons were produced. 

In 1828 the product was 130,000 tons. 

" 1829 " " " 142,000 " 

" 1830 " '• " 165,000 " 

" 1831 " " " 191,000 " 

" 1832 " " " 200,000 " 

" 1840 " " " 347,000 " 

" 1S42 " " " 215,000 " 

I " 1845 " " " 486,000 " 

" 1846 " " " 765,000 " 

" 1847 " " " 800,000 " 

" 1852 " " " 564,000 " 

" 1854 " " " 716,674 " 

" 1855 " " " 754,178 " 

" 1856 " " " 874,423 " 

" 1857 " " " 798,157 " 

" 1858 " " " 705,094 " 

" 1859 " " " 8«10,427 " 

" I860 " " " 913,774 " 

" .1861 " " " 731,564 " 

" 1862 " " " 787,662 " 

" 1863 " " " 947,604 " 

" 1864 " " "1,135,497 " 

" 1865 " " " 931,582 " 

« 18G6 " " "1,350,943 " 

" 1867 " " "1,461,626 " 

" 1868 " " "1,103.500 " 

" 1869 •' " " 1,916,641 " 

" 1870 " " " 2.000.000 " 

There was a protective duty on iron from 
1825 to 1837, but none from 1837 to 1843. 
From 1843 to 1848 there Avas protection, 
but none from 1848 to 18G3. The high 
protective duty was modified in 1866, and 
since that time tlie ])rotection has been more 
and more moderate as tlie premium on gold 
declined. The tariif of 1870 reduced the 
duty from nine to seven dollars per ton on 
pig iron, and from eight to six dollars per 
ton on scrap iron. 

Until the year 1840, charcoal had been the 
only fuel used in the manufacture of iron ; 
and while it produced a metal far superior 
in quality to that made with coke, the great 
demands of the trade were for cheap irons, 
and the market was chiefly supplied with 
these from Great Britain. The introduction 
of anthracite for smelting iron ores in 1 840 
marked a new era in the manufacture, though 
its influence was not sensibly felt for several 
years* 

MATERIALS EMPLOYED IN THE MANUFACTURE. 

Before attempting to exhibit the resources 
of the United States for making iron, and 
the methods of conducting the manufacture, 
it is well to give some account of the mate- 
rials employed, and explain the conditions 
upon which this manufacture depends. Three 
elements are essential in the great branch of 
the business — that of producing pig iron. 



viz : ores, fuel to reduce them, and a suit- 
able flux to aid the process by melting with 
and removing the earthy impurities of the 
ore in a freely flowing, glassy cinder. Tlie 
flux is usually limestone, and by a wise pro- 
vision, evidently in view of the uses to 
which this would be applied, limestone is 
almost universally found conveniently near 
to iron ores ; so also are stores of fuel com- 
mensurate with the abundance of the ores. 

The principal ores are hematites, magnetic 
and specular ores, the red oxides of the sec- 
ondary rocks, and the carbonates. Probably 
more than three-quarters of the iron made 
in the United States is from the first three 
varieties named, and a much larger propor- 
tion of the English iron is from the last — 
from the magnetic and specular ores none. 
Hematites, wherever known, are favorite ores. 
They are met with in great irregular-shaped 
deposits (apparently derived from other 
forms in which the iron was distributed), in- 
termixed with ochres, clays, and sands, some- 
times in scattered lumps and blocks, and 
sometimes in massive ledges ; they also 
occur in beds interstratified among the mica 
slates. Although the deposits are regarded 
as of limited capacity, they are often worked 
to the depth of more than 100 feet; in one 
instance in Berks county, Penn., to 165 feet; 
and when abandoned, as they sometimes are, 
it is questionable whether this is not rather 
owing to the increased expenses incurred in 
continuing the enormous excavations at such 
depths, than from failure of the ore. Mines 
of hematite have proved the most valuable 
mines in the United States. At Salisbury, 
in Connecticut, they have been worked 
almost uninterruptedly for more than 100 
years, supplying the means for supporting 
an active industry in the country around, 
and enriching generation after generation of 
proprietors. The great group of mines at 
Chestnut Hill, in Columbia county, Penn., 
and others in Berks and Lehigh counties in 
the same state, arc of similar character. 

The ore is a hydrated peroxide of iron, 
consisting of from 72 to 85 percent, of per- 
oxide of iron (which corresponds to about 
50 to 60 per cent, of iron), and from 10 to 
14 per cent, of water. Silica and alumina, 
phosphoric acid, and peroxide of manganese 
are one or more present in very small quanti- 
ties ; but the impurities are rarely such as to 
interfere with the production of very excel- 
lent iron, either for foundry or forge pur- 
poses — that is, for castings or bar iron. It is 



21 



easily and cheaply mined, and works easily 
in the blast furnace. On account of its de- 
ficiency in silica it is necessary to use a lime- 
stone containing tliis ingredient, that the 
elements of a glassy cinder may be provided, 
which is the first rccjuisite in smelting iron ; 
or the same end may be more advantageously 
attained by adding a portion of magnetic 
ore, which is almost always mixed with 
silica in the form of quartz ; and these two 
ores are consequently very generally worked 
together — the hematites making two-thirds 
or three-quarters of the charge, and the mag- 
netic ores the remainder. 

Magnetic ore is the richest possible com- 
bination of iron, the proportion of which 
cannot exceed 72.4 per cent., combined with 
37.6 per cent of oxygen. It is a heavy, 
black ore, compact or in coarse crystalline 
grains, and commonly mixed with quartz 
and other minerals. It aft'ects the magnetic 
needle, and pieces of it often support small 
bits of iron, as nails. Such ore is the load- 
stone. It is obtained of various qualities ; 
some sorts work with great difficulty in the 
blast furnace, and others are more easily 
managed and make excellent iron for any 
use ; but all do better mixed with hematite. 
The magnetic ores have been largely em- 
ployed in the ancient processes of making 
malleable iron direct from the ore in the 
open forge, the Catalan forge, etc., and at 
the present time they are so used in the 
bloomary fires. They are found in inex- 
haustible beds of all dimensions lying among 
the micaceous slates and gneiss rocks. These 
beds are sometimes so extensive that they 
appear to make up the greater pait of the 
mountains in which they lie, and in common 
language the mountains are said to be all 
ore. 

Specular ore, or specular iron, is so named 
from the sliining, mirror-like plates in which 
it is often found. The common ore is some- 
times red, steel gray, or iron black, and all 
these varieties are distinguislied by the 
bright red color of the powder of the ore, 
which is that of peroxide of iron. Mag- 
netic ore gives a black powder, which is that 
of a less oxidized combination. The specu- 
lar ore thus contains less iron and more oxy- 
gen than the magnetic ; the proportions of its 
ingredients are 70 parts in 100 of iron, and 
30 of oxygen. Thougli the difference seems 
slight, the qualities of the two ores are quite 
distinct. The peroxide makes iron fast, but 
some sorts of it produce an inferior quality 



of iron to that from the hematite and mag- 
netic ores, and better adapted for castings 
than for converting into malleable iron. The 
pure, rich ores, however, are many of them 
unsurpassed. It is found in beds of all di- 
mensions, and though in the eastern part of 
the United States they j)rove of limited ex- 
tent, those of Missouri and Lake Superior 
are inexhaustible. Magnetic and specular 
ores are associated together in the same dis- 
trict, and sometimes are accompanied by 
hematite beds ; and it is also tlie case, that 
iron districts are cliaracterized by the preva- 
lence of one kind only of these ores, to the 
exclusion of the others. 

The red oxides of the secondary rocks 
consist, for tlie most part, of the red fossil- 
iferous and oolitic ores that accompany the 
so-called Clinton group of calcareous shales, 
sandstones, and argillaceous limestones of 
the upper silurian along their lines of out- 
crop in Pennsylvania, Maryland, and east- 
ern Tennessee, and from Oneida county, N. 
Y., westward past Niagara Falls, and through 
Canada even to Wisconsin. The ore is found 
in one or two bands, rarely more than one or 
two feet thick, and the sandstone strata with 
which they arc associated are sometimes so 
ferruginous as to be themselves workable 
ores. The true ores are sometimes entirely 
made up of the forms of fossil marine shells, 
the original material of which has been 
gradually replaced by peroxide of iron. The 
oolitic variety is composed of fine globular 
particles, united together like the roe of a 
fish. The ore is also found in compact 
forms, and in Wisconsin it is in the condi- 
tion of fine sand or seed. Its composition 
is very variable, and its per-centage of iron 
ranges from 40 to 60. By reason of the 
carbonate of lime diffused through some of 
the varieties, these work in the blast furnace 
very freely, and serve extremely well to mix 
with the silicious ores. 

Of the varieties of carbonate of iron, the 
only ones of practical importance in the 
United States are the silicious and argilla- 
ceous carbonates of the coal formation, and 
the similar ores of purer character found 
among the tertiary clays on the western 
shores of Chesapeake Bay. The former va- 
rieties are the chief dependence of the iron 
furnaces of Great Britain, where they abun- 
dantly occur in layers among the shales of 
the coal formation, interstratified with the 
beds of coal — the shafts that are sunk for 
the exploration of one also penetrating beds 



22 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



of the other. The layers of ore are in flat- 
tened blocks, balls, and kidney-shaped lumps, 
which are picked out from the shales as the 
beds of these are excavated. The ore is 
lean, affording from 30 to 40 per cent, of 
iron ; but it is of easy reduction, and makes, 
when properly treated, iron of fair quality. 
In Pennsylvania, Ohio, western Virginia, 
Kentucky, and Tennessee, the ores occur 
with the same associations as in England ; 
but the supply is, for the most part, very pre- 
carious, and many furnaces that have de- 
pended upon them are now kept in opera- 
tion only by drawing a considerable portion 
of their supplies from the mines of Lake 
Superior, more than one thousand miles off. 
Among the horizontally stratified rocks west 
of the AUeghanies, the same bands of ore 
are traced over extensive districts, and are 
even recognized in several of the ditlerent 
states named. One of the most important 
of these bands is the buhrstone ore, so call- 
ed from a cellular, flinty accompaniment 
which usually underlies it, the whole con- 
tained in a bed of peculiar fossiliferous lime- 
stone. So much carbonate of lime is some- 
times present in the ore, that it requires no 
other flux in the blast furnace. Its per-cent- 
age of iron is from 25 to 35. Along the line 
of outcrop of some of the carbonates are 
found deposits of hematite ores, the result 
of superflcial changes in the former, due to 
atmospheric agencies long continued. In 
southern Ohio, at Hanging Rock particularly, 
numerous furnaces have been supported by 
these ores, and have furnished much of the 
best iron produced at the west. 

The carbonates of the tertiary are found 
in blocks and lumps among the clays along 
the shores of the Chesapeake at Baltimore, 
and its vicinity. The ores are of excellent 
character, work easily in the furnace, make a 
kind of iron highly esteemed — particularly 
for the manufacture of nails — and are so 
abundant that they have long sustained a 
considerable number of furnaces. Tlicv lie 
near the surface, and are collected by exca- 
vating the clay beds and sorting out the 
balls of ore. The excavations have been 
carried out in some places on the shore be- 
low the level of tide, the water being kept 
back by cofter dams and steam pumps. 

Bog ores, with which the earliest furnaces 
in the country were supplied, arc now little 
used. They are rarely found in quantities 
sufficient for running the large furnaces of 
the present day, and, moreover, make but an 



inferior, brittle quality of cast iron. They 
are chiefly found near the coast, and being 
easily dug, and also reduced to metal with 
great facility, they proved very convenient 
for temporary use before the great bodies of 
ore in the interior were reached. Some fur- 
naces are still running on these ores in the 
south-west part of New Jersey, and at Snow- 
hill, on the eastern shore of Maryland, and 
the iron they make is used to advantage in 
mixing at the great stove foundries in Albany 
and Troy with other varieties of cast iron. 
It increases the fluidity of these, and pro- 
duces with them a mixture that will flow 
into and take the forms of the minutest 
markings of the mould. 

Charcoal has been the only fuel employed 
in the manufacture of iron until anthracite 
was applied to this purpose, about the year 
1840, and still later — in the United States — 
coke and bituminous coal. So long as wood 
continued abundant in the iron districts, it 
was preferred to the mineral fuel, as in the 
early experience of the use of the latter the 
quality of the iron it produced was inferior 
to that made from the same ores with char- 
coal, and even at the present time, most of 
the highest-priced irons are made with char- 
coal. The hard woods make the best coal, 
and after these, the yellow pine. Hemlock 
and chestnut are largely used, because of 
their abundance and cheapness. The char- 
coal furnaces are of small size compared 
with those using the denser mineral coal, 
and their capacity rarely exceeds a produc- 
tion of ten or twelve tons of pig iron in 
twenty-four hours. In 1840 they seldom 
made more than four tons a day ; the difter- 
ence is owing to larger furnaces, the use of 
hot blast, and much more efficient blowing 
machinery. The consumption of charcoal 
to the ton of iron is one hundred bushels of 
hard-wood coal at a minimum, and from this 
running up to one hundred and fifty bushels 
or more, according to the quality of the coal 
and the skill of the manager. The economy 
of the business depends, in great part, upon 
the convenience of the supplies of fuel and 
of ores, of each of which rather more than 
two tons weight are consumed to every ton 
of pig ii'on. As the woods are cut oft" in 
the vicinity of the furnaces, the supplies are 
gradually drawn from greater distances, till 
at last they arc sometimes hauled from ten 
to fourteen miles. The furnaces near Balti- 
more have been supplied with pine wood dis- 
charged from vessels at the coaling kilns 



23 



close by the furnaces. Transportation of 
the fuel in such cases is a matter of second- 
ary importance. 

The mineral coals are a more certain de- 
pendence in this manufacture, and are cheap- 
ly conveyed from the mines on the great 
lines of transportation, so that furnaces may 
he placed anywhere upon these lines, with 
reference more especially to proximity of 
ores. Thus they can be grouped togeth- 
er in greater numbers than is practicable 
with charcoal furnaces. Their establisliment, 
however, involves the outlay of much capital, 
for the anthracite furnaces are all built upon 
a large scale, with a capacity of producing 
from twenty to thirty tons of pig iron a day. 
This requires machinery of great power to 
furnish the immense quantities of air, 
amounting in the large stacks to fifteen tons 
or more every hour, and propel it through 
the dense column, of fifty to sixty feet in 
height, of heavy materials that fill the furnace. 
The air actually exceeds in weight all the 
other materials introduced into the furnace, 
and its ethoiency in promoting combustion 
and generating intensity of heat is greatly 
increased by the concentration to which it 
is subjected when blown in under a pressure 
of six or eight pounds to the square inch. 
It is rendered still more efiicient by being 
heated to temperature sufficient to melt lead 
before it is introduced into the furnace; and 
this demands the construction of heating 
ovens, through which the blast is forced from 
the blowing cylinders in a series of iron 
pipes, arranged so as to absorb as much as 
possible of the waste heat from the combust- 
ible gases that issue from the top of the 
stack, and are led through these ovens before 
they are finally allowed to escape. The 
weight of anthracite consumed is not far 
from double that of the iron made, and the 
ores usually exceed in weight the fuel. The 
flux is a small and cheap item, its weight 
ranijinfr from one-eiirhth to one-third that of 
the ores. 

The location of furnaces with reference to 
the market for the iron is a consideration of 
no small importance, for the advantages of 
cheap material may be overbalanced by the 
difi'erencc of a few dollars in the cost of 
placing in market a product of so little value 
to the ton weight as pig iron. 

The foUowuig statement gave the cost of 
the dillereut items wliieh Avent to make up 
the total ttxpeuse of production at the locali- 
ties named in 1859. The advance in the 

2* 



value of ores, cost of transportation, lal)or, 
and coal, have increased these items about 
75 per cent, since 1863. 

At different points on the Hudson river, 
anthracite furnaces are in operation, which 
are supplied with hematites from Columbia 
and Dutchess counties, N. Y., and from the 
neighboring counties in Massachusetts, at 
prices varying from |!2.25 to $3.00 per ton ; 
averaging about ^2.50. They also use mag- 
netic ores from Lake Champlain, and some 
from the Highlands below West Point, the 
latter costing $52.50, and the former $3.50 to 
$4.50 per ton ; the average being about 
$3.50. The quantities of these ores pur- 
chased for the ton of iron produced are 
about two tons of hematite and one of mag- 
netic ore, making the cost for the ores $6.75. 
Two tons of anthracite cost usually $9, and 
the flux for fuel about 35 cents. Actual con- 
tract prices for labor and superintendence 
have been $4 per ton. Thus the total ex- 
pense for the ton of pig iron is about $20.10 ; 
or, allowing for repairs and interest on 
capital, full $21. 

In the Lehigh valley, in Pennsylvania, 
are numerous furnaces, which are supplied 
with anthracite at the low rate of $3 per ton, 
or $6 to the ton of iron. The ores are mixed 
magnetic and hematites, averaging in the- 
proportions used about $3 per ton, or, at tlie- 
rate consumed of 2i tons, $7.50 to the ton 
of iron. Allowing the same amount — $4..3o 
— for other items, as at the Hudson river- 
furnaces, the total cost is $17.85; or, with 
interest and repairs, nearly $19 per ton. The 
difterence is in great part made up to the 
furnaces on the Hudson by their convenience 
to the great markets of New York, Troy, and' 
Albany. 

The charcoal iron made near Baltimore 
shows a higher cost of production than either- 
of the above, and it is also subject to greater 
expenses of transpoi'tation to market, which 
is chiefly at the rolling mills and nail fac- 
tories of Massachusetts. Its superior quality 
causes a demand for the product and 
sustains the business. For this iron per ton 
2h tons of ore are consumed, costing $3.62i 
per ton, or $9.0G ; fuel, 3i cords at $2.50, 
$8.75; flux, oyster shells, 30 cts. ; lal)or (in- 
cluding $1.50 for charring) $2.75; other ex- 
penses, $2 ; total, $22.86. 

At many localities in the interior of 
Pennsylvania and Ohio, iron is made at less 
cost, but their advantages are often counter- 
balanced by additional expenses incurred in 



24 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



delivering the metal, and obtaining the pro- 
ceeds of its sale. Increased facilities of 
transportation, however, are rapidly remov- 
ing these distinctions. At Danville, on the 
Susquehanna river, Columbia county, Penn- 
sylvania, the cost of production has been re- 
duced to an unusually low amount, by reason 
of large supplies of ore close at hand, the 
cheapness of anthracite, and the very large 
scale of the operations. Pig iron, as shown 
by the books of the company, has been made 
for $11 per ton. Its quality, however, was 
inferior, so that, with the expenses of trans- 
portation added, it could not be placed in 
the eastern markets to compete with other 
irons. Pig iron is produced more cheaply 
ou the Ohio river and some of its tributaries 
than elsewhere, but there are no furnaces in 
the United States which can make a good 
article much less than $27 per ton. 

DISTRIBUTION OF THE ORES. 

The magnetic and specular ores of the 
United States are found in the belt of 
metamorphic rocks — the gneiss, quartz rock, 
mica and talcose slates,and limestones — which 
ranges along to the east of the Alleghanies, 
and spreads over the principal part of the 
New England states. It is only, however, 
in certain districts, that this belt is produc- 
tive in iron ores. The hematites belong to 
the same group, and the important districts 
of the three ores may be noticed in the or- 
der in which they are met from Canada to 
Alabama. Similar ores are also abundant 
in Missouri, and to the south of Lake 
Superior. 

New England States. — In New Hamp- 
shire magnetic and specular ores are found 
in large quantities in a high granitic hill 
called the Baldface INIountain, in the town 
of Bartlett. The locality is not conveniently 
accessible, and its remoteness from coal 
mines will probably long keep the ore, rich 
and abundant as it is, of no practical value. 
At Piermont, on the western border of the 
■state, specular ore, very rich and pure, is 
also abundant, but not worked. At Fran- 
conia a small furnace, erected in 1811, was 
run many years upon magnetic ores, obtain- 
ed from a bod of moderate size, and which 
in 1824 had been worked to the depth of 
200 feet. In 1830 the iron establishments 
of this place were still objects of considerable 
interest, though from the accounts of them 
published in the American Journal of Science 
of that year, it appears that the annual pro- 



duction of the blast furnace for the preceding 
nine years had averaged only about "216 
tons of cast iron in hollow ware, stoves, 
machinery, and pig iron" — a less quantity 
than is now produced in a week by some of 
the anthracite furnaces. One forge making 
bar iron direct from the ore produced forty 
tons annually, and another lOl) tons, con- 
suming 550 bushels of charcoal to the ton. 
The cost of this, fortunately, was only from 
$3.75 to $4.00 per hundred bushels. A 
portion of the product Avas transported to 
Boston, the freight alone costing $25 per ton. 
In Vermont these ores are found in the 
metamorphic slates of the Green Mountains, 
and are worked to some extent for mixing 
with the hematite ores, which are more 
abundant, being found in many of the towns 
through the central portion of the state, from 
Canada to Massachusetts. In 1850 the 
number of blast furnaces was ten, but their 
production probably did not reach 4,000 
tons per annum, and has since dwindled 
away to a much less amount. At the same 
time there were seven furnaces in Berkshire, 
Mass., near the hematite beds that are found 
in the towns along the western line of the 
state. These had a working capacity of 
about 12,000 tons of pig iron annually, and 
this being made from excellent ores, with 
charcoal for fuel, its reputation was high and 
the prices remunerative ; but as charcoal in- 
creased in price, and the cheaper anthracite- 
made iron improved in quality, the business 
became unprofitable ; so that the extensive 
hematite beds are now chiefly valuable for 
furnishing ores to the furnaces upon the 
Hudson river, where anthracite is deliv- 
ered from the boats that have come through 
the Delaware and Hudson canal, and magnetic 
ores are brought by similar cheap conveyance 
from the mines on the west side of Lake 
Champlain. Through Connecticut, down the 
Housatonic valley, very extensive beds of 
hematite have supplied the sixteen furnaces 
which were in operation ten years ago. The 
great Salisbury bed has already been named. 
In the first half of the present century it 
produced from 250,000 to 300,000 tons of 
the very best ore ; the iron from which, when 
made with cold blast, readily brought from 
$6 to $10 per ton more than the ordi- 
nary kinds of pig iron. The Kent ore bed was 
of similar character, though not so extensive. 
New York. — Across the New York state 
line, a number of other very extensive de- 
posits of hematite supported seven blast fur- 



IRON.. 



25 



naces in Columbia and Dutcliess counties, 
and now furnish supplies to those alony; the 
Hudson river. In Putnam county, mati;netic 
ores succeed the hematites, and are devel- 
oped in considerable beds in Putnam Val- 
ley, east from Cold Sprinjj;, wliere they were 
worked for the supply of forties during the 
last century. These beds can again furnish 
large (piantities of rich ore. On the other 
side of the river, very productive mines of 
magnetic ore have been worked near Fort 
^Montgomery, six miles west from the river. 
At the Greenwood furnace, back from West 
Point, was produced the strongest cast iron 
ever tested, which, according to the report 
of the officers of the ordnance department, 
made to Congress in 1856, after being re- 
melted several times to increase its density, 
exhibited a tenacity of 45,970 lbs. to the 
square inch. The beds at Monroe, near the 
New Jersey line, are of vast extent; but a 
small portion of the enormous quantities of 
ore in sight, however, makes the best iron. 
Mining was commenced here in 1750, and a 
furnace was built in 1751, but operations 
have never been carried on upon a scale 
commensurate with the abundance of the 
ores. In the northern counties of New 
York, near Lake Champlain, are numerous 
mines of rich magnetic ores. Some of the 
most extensive bloomary establishments in 
the United States are supported by them in 
Clinton (county, and many smaller forges are 
scattered along the course of the Ausable 
river, where water power near some of the 
ore beds presents a favorable site. Bar iron 
is made at these establishments direct from 
the ores ; and at Keeseville nail factories are 
in operation, converting a portion of the 
iron into nails. In Essex county there are 
also many very productive mines of the same 
kind of ore, and l*ort Henry and its vicinity 
has furnished large quantities, not only to 
the blast furnaces that were formerly in 
operation here, but to those on the Hudson, 
and to puddling furnaces in different parts 
of the country, particularly about Boston. 
In the interior of Essex county, forty miles 
back from the lake, are the extensive mines 
of the Adirondac. The ores are rich as 
well as inexhaustible, but the remoteness of 
tlie locality, and the difficulty attending the 
working of them, owing to their contamina- 
tion with titanium, detract greatly from their 
importance. On the other side of the Adi- 
rondac mountains, in St. Lawrence county, 
near Lake Ontario, are found large beds of 



specular ores, which have been worked to 
some extent in several blast furnaces. They 
occur along the line of junction of the gran- 
ite and the l\>tsdam sandstone. The iron 
they make is inferior — suitable only for cast- 
ings. The only other ores of any importance 
in the state are the fossilifcrous ores of the 
Clinton group, which arc worked near Oneida 
Lake, and at several points along a narrow 
belt of country near the south shore of Lake 
Ontario. They have sustained five blast 
furnaces in this region, and are transported 
in large quantities by canal to the anthra- 
cite furnaces at Scranton, in Pennsylvania, 
the boats returning with mineral coal for the 
furnaces near Oneida Lake. 

New Jersey. — From Orange county, in 
New York, the range of gneiss and horn- 
blende rocks, which contain the magnetic 
and specular ores, passes into New Jersey, 
and spreads over a large part of l^issaic and 
Morris, and the eastern parts of Sussex and 
Warren counties. The beds of magnetic ore 
are very large and numerous, and have been 
worked to great extent, especially about 
Ringwood, Dover, Rockaway, Boonton, and 
other towns, both in blast furnaces and in 
bloomaries. At Andover, in Sussex county, 
a great body of specular ores furnished for a 
number of years the chief supplies for the 
furnaces of the Trenton Iron Company, situ- 
ated at Philipsburg, opposite the mouth of 
the Lehigh. On the range of this ore, a few 
miles to the north-east, are extensive deposits 
of Frankliniteiron ore accompanying the zinc 
ore of this region. This unusual variety 
of ore consists of peroxide of iron about 
66 per cent., oxide of zinc 17, and oxide of 
manganese 16. It is smelted at the works 
of the New Jersey Zinc Company at New- 
ark, producing annually about 2,000 tons of 
pig iron. The metal is remarkable for its 
large crystalline faces and hardness, and is 
particularly adapted for the manufacture of 
steel, as well as for producing bar iron of 
great strength. 

As the forests, which formerly supplied 
abundant fuel for the iron works of this re- 
gion, disappeared before the increasing de- 
mands, attention was directed to the inex- 
haustible sources of anthracite up the Lehigli 
valley in Pennsylvania, with which this iron 
region was connected by the Morris canal 
and the Lehigh canal ; and almost the first 
successful application of this fuel to the 
smelting of iron ores upon a large scale w^as 
made at Stanhope, by Mr. Edwin I'ost. A new 



26 



MIN1N& INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



era in tie iron manufacture was thus intro- 
duced, and an immense increase in the pro- 
duction soon followed, as the charcoal fur- 
naces gave place to larger ones constructed 
for anthracite. The Lehigh valley, lying on 
the range of the iron ores toward the south- 
west, also produced large quantities of ore, 
which, however, was almost exclusively 
hematite. Hence, an interchange of ores 
has heen largely carried on for furnishing 
the best mixtures to the furnaces of the two 
portions of this iron district ; and the oper- 
ations of the two must necessarily be consid- 
ered together. The annual production, in- 
cluding that of the bloomaries of New Jer- 
sey, has reached, within a few years, about 
140,000 tons of iron. But in a prosperous 
condition of the iron business this can be 
largely increased without greatly adding to 
the Avorks already established, while the ca- 
pacity of the iron mines and supplies of fuel 
are unlimited. The proximity of this dis- 
trict to the great cities, New York and Phil- 
adelphia, adds greatly to its importance. 

Pennsylvania. — Although about one- 
third of all the iron manufactured in the 
United States is the product of the mines of 
Pennsylvania, and of the ores carried into 
the state, the comparative importance of her 
mines has been greatly overrated, and their 
large development is rather owing to the 
abundant supplies of mineral coal conveni- 
ently at hand for working the ores, and, as 
remarked by Mr. Lesley ("Iron Manufac- 
turer's Guide," p. 433), "to the energetic, 
persevering German use for a century of 
years of what ores do exist, than to any ex- 
traordinary wealth of iron of which she can 
boast. Her reputation for iron is certainly 
not derived from any actual pre-eminence of 
mineral over her sister states. New York, 
New Jersey, Virginia, and North Carolina, 
are far more liberally endowed by nature in 
this respect than she. The immense mag- 
netic deposits of New York and New Jersey 
almost disappear just after entering her lim- 
its. The brown hematite beds of her great 
valley will not seem extraordinary to one 
who has become familiar with those of New 
York, Massachusetts, Vermont, Virginia, and 
Tennessee. Her fossil ores are lean and un- 
certain compared with those of the south ; 
and the carbonate and hematized carbonate 
outcrops in and under her coal measures 
will hardly bear comparison with those of 
the grander outspread of the same forma- 
tions in Ohio, Kentucky, and western Vir- 



ginia." The principal sources of iron in the 
state are, first, the hematites of Lehigh and 
Berks counties — the range continuing pro- 
ductive through Lancaster, also on the other 
side of the intervening district of the new 
red sandstone formation. The ores are 
found in large beds in the limestone valley, 
between the South and the Kittatinny 
mountains ; those nearest the Lehigh supply 
the furnaces on that rivei", already amounting 
to twenty-three in operation and four more in 
course of construction, and those nearer' the 
Schuylkill supply the furnaces along this 
river. The largest bed is the Moselem, in 
Berks county, six miles west-south-west from 
Kutztown. It has been very extensively 
worked, partly in open excavation and partly 
by underground mining, the workings reach- 
ing to the depth of 165 feet. Over 20,000 
tons a year of ore have been produced, at a 
cost of from $1.30 to $1.50 per ton. 

Magnetic ores are found upon the Lehigh, 
or South mountain, the margin on the south 
of the fertile limestone valley which con- 
tains the hematite beds. These, how- 
ever, are quite unimportant, the dependence 
of the great iron furnaces of the Lehigh 
for these ores being on the more extensive 
mines of New Jersey; while the only sup- 
plies of magnetic ores to the furnaces of the 
Schuylkill and the Susquehanna are from the 
great Cornwall mines, four miles south of Leb- 
anon. An immense body of magnetic iron 
ore, associated with copper ores, has been 
Avorked for a long time at this place, at the 
junction of the lower silurian limestones 
and the red sandstone formation. The bed 
lies between dikes of trap, and exhibits pe- 
culiarities that distinguish it from the other 
bodies of iron ore on this range. The War- 
wick, or Jones' mine, in the south corner of 
Berks county, resembles it in- some particu- 
lars. Its geological position is in the upper 
slaty layers of the Potsdam sandstone, near 
the meeting of this formation with the new 
red sandstone. Trap dikes penetrate the 
ore and the slates, and the best ore is found 
at both mines near the trap. Not far from 
York, Pa , an ore known as the Codorus Iron 
Ore has been raised for some years, but was 
regarded as almost worthless, but recent ex- 
periments have led to the discovery that it 
contains the exact ingredients necessary to 
make it the best of fluxes for reducing the 
other ores of that region to steel of excellent 
quality without any intermediate process. 
Along the Maryland line, on both sides of the 



27 



S^usquehanna, chrome iron has been found in 
coiisi(k'ral)Ie abiiiKlaiice in the serpentine 
rocks, ami has bei-u hxrujcly and very profita- 
bly milled for home consiiinption and for ex- 
portation. It furnishes tlie ditferent chrome 
pigment^, and their preparation has been 
carried on cliiofly at IJaltimorc. 

A portion of the hematites wliich supply 
the furnaces on the Schuylkill, occur along a 
narrow limestone belt of about a mile in 
width, that crosses the Schuylkill at Spring 
Mill, and extends north-east into Montgomery 
county, and south-west into Chester county. 
Their production has been very large, and 
that of the furnaces of the Schuylkill valley 
dependent upon these and the other mines 
of this regi<Mi has been rated at 100,000 
tons of iron annually. 

The great Chestnut hill hematite ore bed, 
three and a half milesnorth-east of Columbia, 
Lancaster county, covers about twelve acres 
of surface, and has been woi'ked in numer- 
ous great open excavations to about 100 feet 
in depth, the ore prevailing throughout 
among the clays and sands from top to bot- 
tom. "The floor of the mine is hard, white 
Potsdam sandstone, or the gray slaty layers 
over it. The walls show horizontal wavy 
layers of blue, yellow, and white laminated, 
unctuous clays, from forty to sixty feet deep, 
containing ore, and under these an irregular 
layer of hard concretionary, cellular, fibrous, 
brown hematite from 
ten to thirty feet 
thick down to the 
sandstone." (" Iron 
Man ufact urer's 
Guide, p. 562.") In 
the accompanying 
wood-cut, the dark- 
ly shaded portions 
represent the hema- 
tites, while the light- 
er portions above are 
chiefly clays. Pro- 
fessor Rogers sup- 
poses that the ore 
has leached down 
from the upper slaty 
beds through which 
it was originally dif- S~^ 
fused, and has col- ~^ 
lected upon the im- 
pervious sandstone, 
which in this vicinity is the first 
bearinix stratum f )r the wells. 



Silurian limestones and sandstones along the 
valleys of central Pennsylvania, from the 
Susquehanna to the base of the Alleghany 
mountain, is acconq)anied through these val- 
leys with numerous beds of hematite ; and 
to the supplies of ore they have furnished 
for great numbers of furnaces, is added the 
fossiliferous ore of the Clinton group, the out- 
crop of which is along the slopes of the ridges 
and around their ends. Many furnaces have 
depended upon this source of supply alone. 
As stated by Lesley, there were, in 1857, 
14 anthracite furnaces that used no other, 
and 1 1 anthracite furnaces which mixed it 
either with magnetic ore or hematite, or with 
both. Montour's ridge, at Danville, Colum- 
bia county, referred to on page 24, is one of 
the most remarkable localities of this ore. 
Professor Rogers estimated, in 1847, that 
there were 20 furnaces then dependent upon 
the mines of this place, and producingvinnually 
an average of 8,000 tons of iron each, with 
a consumption of 9,000 tons of ore, or a 
total annual consumption of 180,000 tons. 
At this rate, he calculated that the availa- 
ble ore would be exhausted in 20 years. 

Between the Clinton group and the coal 
measures are successive formations of lime- 
stones, sandstones, shales, etc., which form a 
portion of the geological column of many thou- 
sandfeet inthickness; andamongthesc strata, 
ores like the carbonates of the coal measures 







:S3^ 




CHESTNUT niLL MINE. 



water I are occasionally developed, and these are 

recognized and worked at many localities 

The repeated occurrence of the lower [along the outcrop of the formations to 



28 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



which they belong. Though of some local 
importance, they do not add very largely to 
the iron production of the state. Along the 
summit of the Alleghany mountain the base 
of the coal measures is reached, which 
thence spread over the western portion of 
the state, nearly to its northern line. The 
ores which belong to this formation are 
chiefly contained among its lower mem- 
bers, and found in the outcrop of these 
around the margin of the basin. At some 
localities they have been obtained in considei'- 
able abundance, and many furnaces have run 
upon them alone ; but for large establish- 
ments of several furnaces together, they 
prove a very uncertain dependence. 

Maryland. — The metamorphicbelt crosses 
this state back of Baltimore, and is pro- 
ductive in chromic iron and copper ores, 
rather than in magnetic and specular ores. 
Some of the former, highly titaniferous, have 
been worked near the northern line of the 
state, on the west side of the Susquehanna; 
and at Sykesville, on the Potomac, a furnace 
has been supplied with specular ores from its 
vicinity. Several hematite beds within 
twenty miles of Baltimore have supplied 
considerable quantities of ore for mixture 
with the tertiary carbonates, upon which 
the iron production of the state chiefly 
depends. Beds of these occur near the bay 
from Havre de Grace to the District of 
Columbia. In the western part of the state 
large furnaces were built at Mount Savage and 
Lonaconing to work the ores of the coal 
formation ; but the supply has proved in- 
suflScient to sustain them. In 1853 the 
capacity of the blast furnaces of the state 
was equal to a production of over 70,000 
tons of iron. This, however, has never been 
realized. 

Southern States. — South of Maryland 
the same iron belt continues through Vir- 
ginia, the Carolinas, and Georgia ; and al- 
though it is often as productive in immense 
beds of the three varieties of ore — the 
magnetic, specular, and hematite — as in the 
other states along its range, these resources 
add comparatively little to the material 
wealth of the states to which they belong. 
Through Virginia, east and west of the Blue 
Ridge, hematite ores abound in tnc limestone 
valleys, and magnetic ores are often in con- 
venient proximity to them. Many small 
furnaces have worked them at difterent 
times, but their product was always small. 
Three belts of magnetic ore, associated with 



specular iron and hematites, are traced 
across the midland counties of North Caro- 
lina, and have furnished supplies for fur- 
naces and forges in a number of counties — 
as Lincoln, Cleveland, Rutherford, Stokes, 
Surry, Yadkin, Catawba; and Chatham, 
Wake, and Orange counties upon the east- 
ern belt. The belt of ore from Lincoln 
county passes into South Carolina, and 
through York, Union, and Spartanburg 
districts. It crosses the Broad River at the 
Cherokee ford, and though the whole belt 
is only half a mile wide, it presents numer- 
ous localities of the three kinds of ore, and of 
limestone also in close proximity, and finely 
situated for working. Several other locali- 
ties are noticed in the " State Geological 
Report," by M. Tuomey, who remarks, on 
page 278, that "if iron is not manfactured 
in the state as successfully as elsewhere, it is 
certainly not due to any deficiency in 
natural advantages." In northern Georgia 
the ferruginous belt is productive in im- 
mense bodies of hematite, associated with 
magnetic and specular ores, in the Allatoona 
hills, near the Etowah river, in Cherokee 
and Cass counties. This, which appears to 
be one of the great iron districts of the 
United States, though bountifully provided 
with all the materials required in the manu- 
facture, and traversed by a railroad which 
connects it with the bituminous coal niiiaes 
of eastern Tennessee, supports only six 
small charcoal furnaces of average capacity, 
not exceeding 600 or 700 tons per annum 
each. In Alabama, hematites and specular 
ores accompany the belt of silurian rocks 
to its southern termination, and are worked 
in a few bloomary fires and two or three 
l)last furnaces. The fossiliferous ore of 
the Clinton group is also worked in this 
state. 

Tennessee in 1840 ranked as the third 
iron-producing state in the Union. The 
counties ranging along her eastern border 
produced hematite ores, continuing the 
range of the silurian belt of the great val- 
ley of Virginia ; those bordering the Clinch 
river produced the fossil ore of the Clinton 
group, there known as the dyestone ore ; 
and western Tennessee presented a very in- 
teresting and important district of hematites 
belonging to the subcarboniferous limestone 
in the region lying east of the Tennessee 
and south of the Cumberland river.* The 

* "It is remarkable that most of these deposits 



IRON. 



29 



furnaces of this district, wliich have num- 
bered 42 in all, were the greater part of 
them in Dickson, Montgomery, and Stewart 
counties. They were all supplied with 
charcoal for faef, at a cost of $4 per hundred 
bushels. In 1854 the product of pig iron 
was 37,918 tons; but it gradually declined 
to 27,050 tons in 1857; and in August, 
1858, only 15 furnaces were in operation. 
The close of the war gave a new impulse to 
the production of iron in Tennessee, and 
with her excellent ores and her extensive 
forests she is already taking the lead among 
the southwestern States in the production 
of a charcoal iron of superior quality, and 
will soon produce, also, large quantities of 
coke or bituminous coal iron. 

Kentucky. — The western part of this 
state contains, in the counties of Calloway, 
Trigg, Lyon, Caldwell, Livingston, and 
Crittenden, an important district of hema- 
tite ores — the continuation northward of 
that of Tennessee. In 1857 10 charcoal 
furnaces produced 15,600 tons of iron. 
Eastern Kentucky, however, has a much 
more productive district in the counties of 
Carter and Greenup, which is an extension 
south of the Ohio of the ILanging Rock 
iron district of Ohio. The ores are car- 
bonates and hematite outcrops of carbon- 
ates, belonging to the coal measures and the 
subcarboniferous limestone. They are in 
great abundance ; a section of 740 feet of 
.strata terminating below with the limestone 
named, presenting no less than 14 distinct 
beds of ore, from three inclies to four feet 
each, and yielding from 25 to 60 per cent. 
of iron. One bed of 32 per cent, iron con- 
tains also 11 per cent, bitumen — a composi- 
tion like that of the Scotch " black band" 
ore. Others contain so much lime, that the 
ores are valuable for fluxing as well as for 
producing iron. The furnaces use charcoal 



are of whal is called pot ore, that is, hollow balls of 
ore, which, when broken open, look like broken 
caldrons. One of them, preserved by Mr. Lewis, is 
8 feet across the rim I Another is six feet across. 
The majority are crossed within by purple diaphragms 
or partitions of ore, and the interstitial spaces are 
filled with yellow ochre. Some, like the great eight- 
foot pot, are found to be full of water. Tlie inside sur- 
face is mammillarj', irregular, sometimes botryoidid 
or knobby, but the outside is pretty smooth and reg- 
ular. All these pots were undoubtedly once balls 
of carbonates of lime and iron segregated in the orig- 
inal deposit. . . . Gypsum and pyrites are both 
often found in these Tennessee pots." — Iron Manu- 
facturer's Guide, p. 603. 



and coke. Their production, taken with 
that of the same district in Ohio, places 
this region, as will be seen in the tables to 
follow, among the first in importance in the 
United States. 

Ohio. — The ores of this state, like those 
of Kentucky, belong almost exclusively to 
the coal measitres and the limestone forma- 
tions beneath. In both states some of the 
fossiliferous ore also is found, but it is com- 
paratively unimportant. The productive 
beds are near the base of the coal formation, 
ranging from the Hanging Rock district of 
Scioto and Lawrence counties north-east 
through Jackson, Hocking, Athens, Ferry, 
Muskingum, Tuscarawas, Mahoning, and 
Trumbull counties, to the line of Mercer 
county in Pennsylvania. The uncertain 
character of the ores, both as to supply and 
quality, is strikingly shown by the fact that 
many of the furnaces of the more northern 
counties depend for a considerable portion 
— one-fourth or more — of the ores they use 
upon the rich varieties from Lake Superior 
and Lake Champlain. Although the long 
transportation makes these ores cost nearly 
three times as much per ton as those of the 
coal formation, some furnaces find it more 
profitable to use the former, even in the pro- 
portion of three-fourths, on account of the 
much better iron produced, the greater num- 
ber of tons per day, and the less consump- 
tion of fuel to the ton. The fuel employed 
is charcoal in many of tlie furnaces; some 
have introduced raw bituminous coal to good 
advantage. 

Indiana, Illinois, and Iowa contain no 
important bodies of iron ore. The coal 
measures, which cover large portions of 
these states, are productive in some small 
quantities of the carbonates, in the two 
former, which give support to a very few fur- 
naces ; but in Iowa they contain no worka- 
ble beds at all. 

Michigan. — The iron region of this state 
is in the upper peninsula, between Green 
Bay and Lake Superior. Magnetic and 
specular ores are found throughout a large 
portion of this wild territory, in beds more 
extensive than are seen in any other part of 
the United States — perhaps than are any- 
where known. The district ap{)roaches 
within twelve miles of the coast of Lake 
Superior, from which it is more conveniently 
reached than from the south side of the 
peninsula. The ores are found in a belt of 
crvstalline slates, of six to ten miles in 



30 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



"width, that extends west from the lake shore, 
and is bounded north and south by a 
granitic district. They are developed in 
connection with great dikes and ridges of 
trap, which range east and west, and dip 
with the slates at a high angle toward the 
north. The ores also have the same direc- 
tion and dip. Localities of them are of 
frequent occurrence for eighteen miles in a 
westerly direction from the point of their 
nearest approach to Lake Superior. A second 
range of the beds is found along the south- 
ern margin of the slate district ; and about 
thirty miles back from the lake, where the 
slates extend south into Wisconsin, similar 
developments of ore accompany them to the 
Menomonee river and toward Green Bay. 
The quality of the ore found at difterent 
places varies according to the amount of 
quartz, jasper, hornblende, or feldspar that 
may be mixed with it ; but enormous 
bodies are nearly pure ore, yielding from 68 
to 70 per cent, of iron, and free from a trace 
even of manganese, sulphur, phosphorus, or 
titanium. A single ridge, traced for about six 
miles, rising to a maximum height ot fifty 
feet above its base, and spreading out to a 
width of one thousand feet, has been found 
to consist of great longitudinal bands of 
ore, much of which is of this perfectly pure 
character. Another ridge presents precipi- 
tous walls fifty feet high, composed in part 
of pure specular ore, line grained, of imper- 
fect slaty structure, and interspersed with 
minute crystals of magnetic oxide ; and in 
part of these minute crystals alone. Another 
body of one thousand feet in width, and 
more than a mile long, forms a hill one hun- 
dred and eighty feet high, which is made up 
of alternate bands of pure, fine grained, steel- 
gray peroxide of iron, and deep red jaspery 
ore — the layers generally less than a fourth 
of an inch in thickness, and curiously con- 
torted. Their appearance is very beautiful 
in the almost vertical walls. On one of the 
head branches of the Esconaba is a cfls(^ade 
of thirty-seven feet in height, the ledge over 
which the water falls being a bed of peroxide 
of iron, intermixed with silicious matter. 

For the supply of the few furnaces and 
bloomarv establishments already in operation 
in this district, and for the larger demands 
of distant localities, the ores are collected 
from open quarries, and from the loose 
masses lying around. A railroad affords the 
means of transporting them to Marcjuette, on 
the lake shore, whence they are shipped by 



vessels down the lake. The business already 
amounts to more than 100,000 tons per 
annum, and is increasing very rapidly. The 
name Bay de Noquet and Marquette railroad 
suggests a southern terminus of this road on 
Green Bay, and when an outlet is opened in 
this direction, the production of iron ores 
will no doubt exceed that of any other region 
upon the globe. Large quantities will be 
reduced with charcoal in blast furnaces and 
bloomaries in the region itself; and when 
the forests in the vicinity of the works are cut 
off", the extensive timbered lands around 
Lake Michigan and Lake Huron will furnish 
inexhaustible supplies of fuel, which may be 
brought in vessels to the furnaces, as the 
pine wood from the forests around Chesa- 
peake Bay has long been delivered to the 
furnaces on its western shore. Anthracite 
and bituminous coal will also be brought 
back as return cargoes by the vessels that 
carry the ores to the coal fields of Ohio and 
Pennsylvania. With its vast inland naviga- 
tion and wonderful resources of iron and 
of copper also, the north-western portion of 
our country promises to be the scene of a 
more extended and active industry than 
has ever grown out of the mines of any part 
of the world. 

Wisconsin. — Magnetic and specular ores 
in bodies, somewhat resembling those of the 
region just described, are found in the ex- 
treme northern part of Wisconsin, upon 
what is known as the Penokie range, distant 
about 25 miles from Chegwomigon Bay, 
Lake Superior. Bad River and Montreal 
River drain this district. The ores, from 
their remoteness, are not soon likely to be of 
practical importance. Other immense bodies 
of these ores, estimated to contain many 
millions of tons, are found on Black River, 
which empties into the Mississippi below St, 
Croix river, on the line of the Land Grant 
Branch railroad. A furnace has been built 
by a German company to work these mines. 
Li the eastern part of Wisconsin the oolitic 
ore of the Clinton group is met with in Dodge 
andWashingtoncounties,and again atDepere, 
seven miles south-east of Green Bay. La the 
town of Hubbard, Dodge county, forty miles 
west from Lake Michigan, is the largest de- 
posit of this ore ever discovered. It spreads 
in a layer ten feet thick over 500 acres, and 
is estimated to contain 27,000,000 tons. It 
is in grains, like sand, of glistening red 
color, staining the hands. Each grain has a 
minute nucleus of silex, around which the 



MINING INDUSTKY OF THE INITKD STATES. 



31 



oxide of iron collected. The per-centap^e of 
metal is about fifty. This ore will probably 
be worked near ]\Iilwaukee with Lake 
Superior ores, the La Crosse railroad, which 
passes by the li)cality, already aftbrdiiig; the 
means of cheap transportation. 

Missorui. — This state must be classed 
ainoni; the first in the abundance of its iron 
ores, thoup;h up to this time comparatively 
little has been done in the development of 
its mines. The ores arc exclusively hema- 
tites, and the maijnetic and specular, and all 
occur in the isolated district of silurian 
rocks — formations which almost everywhere 
else in the western middle states arc con- 
cealed beneath the more recent forma- 
tions. In the counties along the line of the 
Pacific railroad south-west branch, Prof. 
Swallow, the state geologist, reports no less 
than ninety localities of hematite. These 
are in Jefferson, Franklin, Crawford, rhel[)s, 
Pulaski, Marion, Green, and other counties. 
The first attempts to melt iron in Missouri, 
and probably in any state west of Ohio, were 
made in Washington county, in 182.3 or 
1824, and with the hematites of the locality 
were mixed magnetic ores from the L-on 
mountain. Li Franklin county there is but 
one furnace, though on both sides of the 
^laramec are beds of hematite pipe ore, 
which cover hundreds of acres. The L'on 
mountain district is about sixty miles back 
from the Mississippi river (the nearest point 
on which is St. Genevieve), and extends from 
the Iron mountain in the south-east part of 
Washington county into Madison county. 
It includes three important localities of 
specular ore : the Iron Mountain, Pilot 
Knob, and Shepherd mountain. The first is 
a hill of gentle slopes, 228 feet high above 
its base, and covei-ing about 500 acres — a 
spur of the porphyritic and syenitic range on 
the cast side of Bellevue valley. In its 
original state, as seen by the writer in 1841, 
it presented no appearance of rock in place, 
its surface was covered with a forest of oak, 
the trees thriving in a soil wholly composed 
of fragments of peroxide of iron, comminuted 
and coarse mixed together. Loose lumps 
of the ore were scattered around on every 
side but the north, and upon the top were 
loose blocks of many tons weight eacli. 
Mining operations, commenced in 1845, de- 
veloped only loose ore closely packed with a 
little red clay. An Artesian well was after- 
Avard suidv to the depth of 152 feet. It pass- 
ed throU";h the following strata in succession : 



iron ore and clay, IG feet; sandstone, 34 
feet; magnesian limestone, Ti inches; gray 
sandstone, Ti inches; "hard blue rock," 37 
feet ; " pure iron ore," 5 feet ; porj)hyritic 
rock, 7 feet; iron ore 50 feet to the bottuni. 
The ore appears to be interstratified with 
the silicious rocks with which it is associated 
in a similar manner to its occurrence at the 
other localities, and data arc yet wanting to 
determine how much may exist in the hill 
itself, as well as below it. Enough is seen to 
justify any operations, however extensive, 
that depend merely upon continued supplies 
of ore. In quality the ore is a very pure 
peroxide ; it melts easily in the furnace, 
making a strong forge pig, well adapted for 
bar iron and steel. Two charcoal furnaces 
have been in operation for a number of 
years, and up to the close of 1854 had pro- 
duced 24,600 tons of iron. The flux is ob- 
tained from the magnesian limestone, which 
spreads over the adjoining valley in horizon- 
tal strata. 

Pilot Knob is a conical hill of 580 feet 
height above its base, situated six miles south 
of the Iron mountain. Its sides are steep, 
and present bold ledges of hard, slaty, sili- 
cious rock, which lie inclined at an angle of 
25° to 30° toward the south-west. Near the 
top the strata are more or less charged with 
the red peroxide of iron, and loose blocks 
of great size are seen scattered around, 
some of them pure ore, and some ore and 
rock mixed. At the height of 440 feet 
above the base, where the horizontal section 
of the mountain is equal to an area of fifty- 
three acres, a bed of ore is exposed to view 
on the north side, which extends 273 feet 
along its line of outcrop, and is from nineteen 
to twenty-four feet in thickness. It is in- 
cluded in the slaty rocks, and dips with 
them. Other similar beds are said to occur 
lower down the hill ; and higlicr up others 
are met with to the very summit. The 
peak of the mountain is a crag<i:y knob of 
gray rocks of ore, rising sixty feet in height, 
and forming so conspicuous an object as to 
have suggested the name by Avhich the hill 
is called. The ore is generally of more slaty 
structure than that of the Iron mountain, 
and some of it has a micaceous appearance. 
The quantity of very pure ore conveniently at 
hand is inexhaustible. The production of iron 
will be limited moi-e for want of abundance 
of fuel than of ore. Charcoal, however, may 
be obtained in al>undance for many years to 
come, and bituminous coal may also be 



32 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



brought from the coal mines of Missouri and 
Illinois, as the ores also can be carried to 
the river to meet there the fuel. The local- 
ity is already connected Avith St. Louis by a 
railroad. A blast furnace was built here in 
1846, aud another in 1855. A bloomary 
with six fires was started in 1850, and has 
produced blooms at an estimated cost of 
$30 per ton. 

Shepherd mountain, about a mile distant 
from tlie l*ilot Knob toward the south-west, 
is composed of porphyritic rocks, which are 
penetrated with veins or dikes of both mag- 
netic and specular ores. These run in vari- 
ous directions, and the ores they aftbrd are 
of great purity. They are mined to work 
together with those of the Pilot Knob. The 
mountain covers about 800 acres, and 
rises to the height of 6G0 feet above its base. 
Other localities of these ores are also known, 
and the occurrence of specular ore is reported 
by the state geologists in several other coun- 
ties, as Phelps, Crawford, Pulaski, La Clede, 
etc. 

In m-any parts of the United States and it*^ 
teri-itories ii'oii is known to exist in great quan- 
tities. In Nebraska and Wyoming territory, 
near the line of the Union Pacific Railroad, 
large beds of iron ore of good quality are found,- 
in proxi:nity to extensive coal deposits, and 
these will be utilized for making rails of iron 
or steel for that great thorougldare. In 
Kansas, Colorado, and New Mexico, are beds- 
of specular and olher ores in great profusion. 
The nortlieru territories, as well as the Pa- 
cific States and territories, have abundant 
ores of the richest qualities, and coal enough 
and wood enough to melt them success- 
fully. 

IRON MANUFACTURE. 

Iron is known in the arts chiefly in three 
forms — cast iron, steel, and wrought iron. 
The first is a combination of metallic iron, 
with from 1^ to 5 or 5^ per cent, of carbon ; 
the second is metallic iron combined with ^ 
to li per cent, of carbon ; and the third is 
metallic iron, free as may be from foreign 
substances. These difierences of composi- 
tion are accompanied with remarkable difier- 
ences in the qualities of the metal, by which 
its 'usefulness is greatly multiplied. The 
three sorts arc producible as desired directly 
from tlie ores, and they are also convertible 
one into the other; so that the methods of 
manufacture are numerous, and new processes 
are continually introduced. The production 



of wrought iron direct from the rich natural 
oxides, was until modern times the only 
method of obtaining the metal. Cast iron 
was unknown until the 1 5tli century. Rude 
nations early learned the simple method of 
separating the oxygen from the ores by heat- 
ing them in the midst of burning charcoal ; 
the cftect of which is to cause the oxygen to 
unite with the carbon in the form of carbonic 
acid or carbonic oxide gas, and escape, leav- 
ing the iron free, and in a condition to be 
hammered at once into bars. The heat they 
could command in their small fires was in- 
sufficient to effect the combination of the 
iron, too, with the carbon, and pi-oduce the 
fusible compound known as cast iron. In 
modern times the great branch of the busi- 
ness is the production of pig metal or cast 
iron in blast furnaces; and this is afterward 
remelted and cast in moulds into the forms 
required, or it is converted into wrought iron 
to serve some of the innumerable uses of 
this kind of iron, or to be changed again into 
steel. In this order the principal branches 
of the manufacture will be noticed. 

The production of pig metal in blast fui*- 
naces is the most economical mode of separa- 
ting iron from its ores, especially if these are 
not extremely rich. The process requiring 
little labor, except in charging the furnaces, 
and this being done in great part by labor- 
saving machines, it can be carried on upon 
an immense scale with the employment of 
few persons, and most of those ordinary la- 
borers. The business, moreover, has been 
greatly simplified and its scale enlarged by 
the substitution of mineral coal for charcoal — 
the latter fuel, indeed, could never have been 
supplied to meet the modern demands of the 
manufacture. 

Blastfurnaces are heavy structures of stone 
work, usually in pyramidal form, built upon 
a base of 80 to 45 feet square, and from 30 
to 00 feet in height. The outer walls, con- 
structed with immense solidity and firmly 
bound together, inclose a central cavity, 
which extends from top to bottom and is 
lined with large fire brick of the most refrac- 
tory character, and specially adapted in their 
shapes to the required contour of the interior. 
The form of this cavity is circular in its hori- 
zontal section, and from the top goes on en- 
larging to the lower portion, where it begins 
to draw in by the walls changing their slope 
toward the centre. This forms what are 
called the boshes of the furnace — the part 
which supports the great weight of the ores 




-^\^^1 



CASTING PIG IRON. 




BL\Sr FURNACE 



CASTING SI EEL INGOTS. 



IROIf. 



33 



and fuel that till the interior. For ores that 
melt easily and fast they are made steeper 
than for those whicli are slowly reduced. 
The hoshes open below into the hearth — tlie 
central contracted space which the French 
name the crucible of the furnace. The 
walls of this are constructed of the most re- 
fractory stones of large size, carefully selected 
for their power to resist the action of fire, 
and seasoned by exposure for a year or more 
after being taken from the quarry. Being 
the first portion to give out, the stack is built 
so that they can be replaced when necessary. 
The hearth is reached on each side of the 
stack by an arch, extending in fi-om the out- 
side. ' On three sides the blast is introduced 
by iron pipes that pass through the hearth- 
stones, and terminate in a hollow tuyere, 
wliich is kept from melting by a current of 
waier brought by a lead or block-tin pipe. 
and made to flow continually through and 
around its hollow shell, rhe fourth side is 
the front or working-arch of the furnace, at the 
bottom of which access is had to the melted 
materials as they collect in the receptacle pro- 
vided for them at the base of the hearth or 
crucible. This arch opens out into the cast- 
ing-house, upon the floor of which are the 
beds in the sand for moulding the pigs into 
which the iron is to be cast. Upon the top 
of the stack around the central cavity are 
constructed, in first-class furnaces, large flues, 
which open into this cavity for the purpose 
of taking off a portion of the heated gaseous 
mixtures, that they may be conveyed under 
the boilers, to be there more effectually con- 
sumed, and furnish the heat for raising steam 
for the engines. A portion of the gases is 
also led into a large heating-oven, usually 
built on the top of the stack, in which the 
blast (distributed through a series of cast iron 
pipes) is heated by the combustion. These 
pipes are then concentrated into one main, 
which passes down the stack and delivers the 
heated air to the tuyeres, thus returning to 
the furnace a large portion of the heat 
which would otherwise escape at the top, and 
adding powerfully to the efficiency of the 
blast by its high temperature. The boilers, 
also conveniently arranged on the top of the 
furnace, especially when two furnaces are 
constructed near together, are heated by the 
escape gases without extra expense of fuel, 
and they furnish steam to the engines, Avhich 
are usually placed below them. On account 
of the enormous volume of air, and the 
great pressure at which it is blown into the 



furnace, the engines are of the most power- 
ful kind, and the blowing cylinders are of 
great dimensions and strength. Some of 
the large anthracite furnaces employ cylin- 
ders 7^ feet diameter, and 9 feet stroke. One 
of these running at the rate of 9 revolutions 
per minute, and its piston acting in both di- 
rections, should propel every minute 7,128 
cubic feet of air (less the loss l>v leakajic) 
into the furnace — a much greater weight than 
that of all the other materials introduced. 
It is, moreover, driven in at a pressui-e (pro- 
duced by the contracted aperture of the 
nozzle of the tuyeres in relation to the great 
volume of air) of 7 or 8 lbs. upon the square 
inch. Two such cylinders answer for a pair 
of the largest furnaces, and vshould be driven 
by separate engines, so that in case of acci- 
dent the available power may be extended to 
either or both furnaces. It is apparent that 
the engines, too, should be of the laigest class 
and most perfect construction ; for the blast 
is designed to be continued with only tem- 
porary interruptions that rarely exceed an 
hour at a time, so long as the hearth may 
remain in running order — a period, it may be, 
of 18 months, or even 4 or 5 years. Fur- 
naces were formerly built against a high bank, 
upon the top of which the stock of oi'e and 
coal was accumulated, and thence carried 
across a bridge, to be delivered into the 
tunnel-head or mouth of the furnace. The 
more common arrangement at present is to 
construct, a little to one side, an elevator, 
provided with two platforms of sufficient 
size to receive several barrows. The moving 
power is the weight of a body of water let 
into a reservoir under the platform wlien it 
is at the top. This being allowed to descend 
with the empty barrows, draws up the other 
platform with its load, and the water is dis- 
charged by a self-regulating valve at the 
bottom. The supply of water is furnished 
to a tank in the top either by pumps con- 
nected with the steam engine or bv the head 
of its source. 

The furnaces of tRe United States, though 
not congregated toiicther in such large num- 
bers as at some of the great establishments 
in England and Scotland, are unsurpassed in 
the perfection of their construction, aj>paratus, 
and capacity ; and none of large size arc prob- 
ably worked in any part of Europe with such 
economy of materials. The Siemen's r< geij- 
erating furnace is adopted in those more 
recently built, wherever an intense heat is 
required for the reduction of the ores. 



34 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



WROUGHT IRON. 

It ha=! been, in the past, a just ground of 
complaint against the producers of wrought 
iron and steel, that they could not reduce 
eitiier directly from the ore — but must go 
through tlie long and tedious processes of first 
waking pig or cast iron, then eliminating the 
carbon from the cast iron by a still more 
tedious process to jjroduce the wrought iron, 
and then restore a part of the carbon to make 
steel. It was said with truth that the half 
civilized Hindoo tribes and even the barV)ar- 
ous Fans of West Africa, made their native 
wrought iron (the loootz of India) directly 
from the ore of an excellent quality, and by 
a much simpler process than was adopted 
either in Europe or the United States. 

There has been, until within the past fif- 
teen or eighteen years, a spirit strongly ad- 
verse to progress or improvement among 
iron producers. By their rude and wasteful 
l)rocesses and their adherence to traditional 
methods and tests, they succeeded in making 
ii fair though not very uniform quality of 
wrought iron, at a pretty high cost, but they 
deprecated any change even if it were for 
tlie better. The philosophy and chemistry 
of iron-making were not well understootl, 
and the time and way of its " coming to na- 
ture " a term which conveys the idea of a 
myster}', was a secret which could only be 
learned, it was thought, by some supernatural 
inspiration oy some extraordinary skill, only 
to be acquired by long experience and care- 
ful observation. 

The Bessemer process, invented and put 
in practice about 1852, first disturbed this 
popular idea ; but in its earlier history this pro- 
cess was not entirelj^ free from guess-work and 
the coming-to-nature theory by some sudden 
and unex})licable change ; subsequent discov- 
eries and experiments removed this mystery 
entirel}'^, and there is not, to-day, in practical 
chemistry and metallurgy a more thoroughly- j 
defined science than that of making iron [ 
The iron master, who if fully educated foi ; 
his business, having before him an accurat. 
analysis of his ores, and knowing, as ho can 
if he w'ill, that they are constant in their ' 
comjwsition, proceeds with the utmost cer- { 
tainty to add other ores, or to permeate the i 
molten ore with atmospheric air, or to force I 
additional oxygen through it by means of 
nitrate of soda, nitrate of potassa, peroxide 
of iron, or other oxygen-yielding compound, 
or introduces a definite quantity of man- 



ganese, powdered charcoal, or spiegeleisen, 
or in some cases silica, to act as flux and 
remove the sulphur, phosiihorus, or other im- 
I^urity, and to destroy the excess of carbon. 
He knows, too, just what heat is requisite, 
and how long it must be continued to pro- 
duce a certain result every time. Here is 
no guess-work, no " rule of thumb," no un- 
certainty. If he requires the best steel for 
rails, he can furnish it of precisely standard 
quality every time ; if he is producing steel 
for the finest cutlery he can produce that; if 
he desires a wrought iron which shall be so 
tough and flexible that it can be bent double 
cold without any symptoms of flaw or crack, 
he knows just Avhat percentage of the differ- 
ent ores, what eliminating processes, and 
what amount and duration of heat is neces- 
sary to produce it. 

Now, as in the past, there are diflferent 
grades and qualities of cast iron, Avrought 
iron, and steel, intended for different pur- 
poses, made from different ores, and possess- 
ing different degrees of tenacity, hardness, 
and ductility ; but the iron-maker wdio can- 
not produce from a given ore, or ores, that 
description of iron which lie desires, without 
failure, does not understand his business. 

Cast iron contains, according to the pur- 
pose for which it is intended, from five to 
six and a half per cent of pure carbon, 
either chemically or mechanically combined, 
and exce23t the combination of ii'on with hy- 
drogen, which is its normal condition, it is 
not the better for any admixture of other 
metals or elements, though for some purjooses 
a small percentage of manganese, tungsten, 
or even a little silicon, are not disadvantage- 
ous. As a matter of practical fact, however, 
both sulphur and phosphorus are usually 
jn-esent, though in good samples in very 
small amount. By sufiicient care they can 
be almost entirely eliminated, and are so in 
the I o>t steel and wrought iron. 

T'teel, according to the purpose to which 
, is to be apjilied, contains, in chemical com- 
oination it is believed, from six-tenths to one 
and six-tenths per cent, of carbon, and should 
have no other ingredient. Wrought iron, 
apart from its ordinary combination with 
hydrogen, should be entirely free from sul- 
phur, phosphorus, or silicon, and though for 
some purposes, a little manganese, tungsten, 
and a very small percentage of carbon may 
not prove disadvantageous, yet practically a 
pure iron is preferable to any alloy. Yet it 
is seldom actually free from impurities. 



IROX. 



35 



What is usually denominated pure iron, melts 
with great dilliculty and only at a very much 
greater heat than either steel or cast iron. 
In actual practice it is never melted, but when 
the mass attains a pasty or semi-glutinous 
condition, it is by one process or another, 
either hammered, pressed, or squeezed till 
the impurities are forced out of it. Abso- 
lutely pure iron, i. e. iron free from hydrogen 
as well as other im[)urities, is one of the 
rarest metals in the world, and was isolated 
completely for the first time in 1860. It is 
a white metal very ductile, and tenacious and 
so soft as to be easily cut with a knife. The 
Bessemer process for eliminating the car- 
bon both for producing wrought iron and 
steel, as now conducted, is as follows : A 
quantity of pig iron of some grade whose 
percentage of carbon is known, is melted in 
one or more reverberating iurnaces, accord- 
ing to the size of the converting vessel to be 
used, which varies in capacity from five to 
twelve tons. When the metal becomes fluid, 
it is run into the converting vessel, to which 
is applied a strong blast of air, which com- 
bines with the carbon at an intense white 
heat. This is continued for about eight or 
ten minutes, until the whole of the carbon is 
consumed, when the blast is stopped. It. is 
now wrought iron, re(iuiring only to be 
squeezed or hammered to force out whatever 
impurities there may be in it. If, as is gen- 
erally the case, it is deemed desirable to 
make it into the Bessemer steel or homoge- 
neous steel or iron, as it is called on the con- 
tinent, a quantity of metal, usually a pure 
pig iron, with a known quantity of carbon, 
is melted and run into the converting vessel 
to furnish carbon in the exact proportion to 
make the quality of steel desired, and this 
combining with the refined iron gives to the 
mass all the properties and characteristics of 
steel. This process, though practically a 
very rapid one, is liable to the objection 
which held ag:iinst the old processes, that 
tl.jre is a time in the ))rocess of eliminating 
the carbon from the pig iron when the mass 
of iron has just enough carbon to form good 
steel ; and that by this process that point is 
passed and the whole of the c;;.uon expelled, 
the mass reduced to the condition of wrought 
iron, and then brought up to the condition 
of steel by the addition of a percentage of 
cast iron. This elimination and restoration 
of the carbon involves waste of time, of heat, 
and of iron ; and hence efforts have been 



made to convert pig iron and iron ore into 
steel by a single process. 

Most of the methods jiroposed and abiding 
the test of actual manufacture arc inten<led 
for the reduction of i)ig iron or ore to steel, 
and so come more properly under the head 
of steel; but a few of them are e(|ually ap- 
l)licable to the production of wrought iron. 

Among these were the ingenious sugges- 
tions of a New York chemist, Prof. A. K. 
Eaton, at first applied to the malleable cast 
iron to partially decarbonize it. lie pro- 
posed the use of the native carbonate of zinc 
as a flux to furnish the oxygen to consume 
the excess of carbon. The objection to this 
process was two-fold — that the zinc com- 
bined in a small jiroportion with the iron, — 
and that the process was too exi)ensive to be 
successful. He afterward proj)Oscd to sub- 
stitute crude soda-ash for the zinc — a sug- 
gestion in the right direction ; for the sodium 
will combine with the sulphur and ])hospho- 
rus, and thus help to remove the ini[)uriti('s 
from the iron ; but the crude soda ash is too 
uncertain in its composition, too full of im- 
purities, and does not yield its oxygen with 
sufficient readiness to be practically the best 
flux for this purpose. 

The process of Messrs. Whelpley & Storer 
seems one of the best of the numerous Ameri- 
can processes. The oxide of carbon, i. e. 
coal gas, half or imperfectly b.urned, is the 
grand agent for making iron and steel from 
all the German and English •furnaces, but 
the great difficulty has been to apply the 
l)owerful agent in such a way as to reduce 
directly from the ore without going through 
the pig iron manufacture, the wrought or 
bar iron, or steel, and free it from the impu- 
rities Avhich exist more or less in all ores as 
well as in much of the pig iron. Messrs. 
Whelpley & Storer effect this by means of a 
machine of their own invention, which is 
really nothing less than the chemist's blow 
pipe on a grand scale. The oxide of carbon 
is generated at the jnoment of using it upon 
the mass of ore, by the injection of a column 
of hot air carrying an excessively fine dust 
of coal or charcoal. The ore spread out 
upon the floor of a common reverberating 
furnace receives the red hot blast, while it 
is raj)idly stirred by the workman, and pure 
iron in minute grains is produced in any 
desired quantity, from 100 to 2,000 pound-i 
or more at a heat. If tlu; mass is balled uj>, 
squeezed, and passed through roller it n 



86 



MINING INDUSTRY OP THE UNITED STATES. 



bar iron of superior quality. If the time of 
the process is extended one hour, or even 
less, the iron absorbs carbon from the blast 
and becomes a light sponge of steel, which 
melts in the crucible or steel puddling fur- 
nace, and is cast into ingots of sound and pure 
metal. If continued still longer larger quan- 
tities of carbon are absorbed and the mass is 
converted into cast iron. The steel and cast 
iron as well as the bar iron are of superior 
qualitj', and remarkable tenacity and strength. 
Steel is made in this process in eight hours 
from crude ore to finished bar ; and bar iron 
in little more than half that time. It is re- 
quisite to the success of the process that the 
carbon should be pulverized to an impalpa- 
ble powder of the last degree of fineness, that 
thus infinitely subdivided and blown upon 
the mass it may carry condensed ujion its 
surface nearly oxygen enough to consume 
it, and thus produce extreme rapidity, in- 
tensity, and thoroughness of combustion. 
This pulverization is effected, for the first 
time, by an ingenious machine invented by 
Messrs. Whelpley & Storer. What Messrs. 
Whelpley & Storer accomplish by their great 
blow-pipe and minute pulverization of car- 
bon, Mr. C. W. Siemens effects in an en- 
tirely different way by his regenerating fur- 
nace ; an apparatus requiring, in the first 
place, a somewhat more extensive and costly 
structure, but in the end accomplishing the 
same result of producing a rapid and intense 
heat and an atmosphere of oxide of carbon 
with a corapai'atively small expenditure of 
fuel. The necessity that the furnace linings 
should be almost absolutely indestructible by 
the intense heat generated makes the first 
cost of a regenerating furnace very heavy. 

There are three distinct principles em- 
bodied in the Siemens' furnace, viz : the 
ap])liea tion of gaseous fuel ; the regeneration 
of heat by means of piles of bricks alternately 
passed over by the waste gases and by the 
atmospheric air entering the furnace before 
their combustion ; and the chemical action of 
these gases in combining with the im))urities 
of the ore or the pig iron, and in modifying 
the quantity of carbon in combination with 
the iron, for the production of steel. 

The gas producer is a brick chamber of 
convenient size, say six feet wide by twelve 
long, with its front wall inclined at an angle 
of 45'^ to 60'^, according to the nature of the 
fuel used. The inclined plane is solid about 
half way down, and below this it is con- 
structed as a "-rate with horizontal bars. It 



is what is called a base-burner, the openings 
for introducing the coal being on the toj? or 
roof of this chamber, and the air whicli en- 
ters through the grate effects the combustion 
of the coal at the lowest points of the cham- 
ber. The products of this combustion rise 
and are decomposed by the superposed strata 
of coal above them ; they are, moreover, 
mixed with a quantity of steam which is 
drawn in through the grate from a constant 
supply of water maintained underneath the 
latter. The steam in contact with the in- 
candescent coal also decomposes and produ- 
ces hydrogen and carbonic oxide gas, which 
are mixed with the gases produced by the 
coal direct. The whole volume of these 
gases is then conducted to the furnace itself 
by means of wrought iron pipes. The gases 
enter one of the regenerators. The regen- 
erators are chambers packed with fire-bricks, 
which are built up in walls, with interstices 
and air-S25aces between them (cob-house fash- 
ion as we should say) allowing of a free pas- 
sage of gas around each brick. Each regen- 
erator consists of two adjoining chambers of 
this kind, with air-passages parallel to each 
other, one passage destined for the gaseous 
fuel, and the other for the supply of atmos- 
pheric air required for combustion. Each 
furnace has two such regenerators, and a 
set of valves is provided in the main passa- 
ges or fines, which permit of directing the 
gases from the jiroducer to the bottom of 
either of the two regenerators. The gases 
after passing one regenerator arrive at the 
furnace, where they are mixed with the air 
drawn in at the same time, and produce a 
flame of great heat and intensity within the 
body of the furnace itself. They then pass, 
after combustion, into the second regenerator 
whicli forms a set of down flues for the waste 
gases, and ultimately leads them off into a 
common chimney. On their way from the 
furnace to the chimney the heated products 
of coml)ustion raise the temperature of the 
fire-bricks, over which they pass, to a very 
high degree, and the gases are so much 
cooled that, at the base of the chimney, they 
do not produce a temperature of much more 
than SOO" Fahrenheit. After a certain time 
the fire-bricks close to the furnace obtain a 
temperature almost equal to that of the fur- 
nace itself, and a gradually diminishing tem- 
perature exists in the bricks of the regenera- 
tor proportionate to their distance from the 
furnace. At this moment the attendant, by 
reversing the different valves of the furnace, 



IRON. 



37 



onmsthe iR'Uted regenerator for the enlranec 
of ilic gaseous fuel and atmospheric air, at 
the same time comu'cting tlie other regen- 
erator with the eliimney for taking of!" the 
proiluots of combusticm The eiuire current 
i)f gases through the furnace is tluis reversed. 
'I'he cohl air from the atmospliere, and the 
eom|)aratively cold gases from tlie producer, 
in passing over bricks of gradually increas- 
ing temperature as they approach the furnace 
become intensely heated, and when they are 
mixed in the furnace itself, enter into com- 
bustion under the most favorable circumstan- 
ces for the production of an intense heat, often 
rising to 4()0l)'''' Fahrenheit in the furnace. 
liy changing the relative proportion of air 
and gas admitted through the flues, the na- 
tuii" of the flame may be altered at will. A 
surplus of oxygen from the introduction of 
more than half the volume of atmospheric 
air will ])roduce an oxidizing flame, suited to 
the proiluctiou of very pure bar iron. By 
the admission of a surplus of gas, on the con- 
trary, the flame can be made of a reductive 
character and used accordingly for deoxida- 
tion. 

Berard's process for making steel by gas, 
directly from pig iron, or ore, requires the 
vSiemens furnace, which he constructs with 
the bottom formed into two parts each hol- 
lowed out like a dish, with a bridge between 
them, upon which the pigs introduced into 
the furnace receive a preliminary heating. 
The flame is maintained with a surplus of 
oxygen, and a quantity of i)ig iron is melted 
in one of the chamljers or dishes. The oxi- 
dizing action of the flame decarbonizes and 
reflnes the pig iron, and after a certain time 
a second quantity of pigs is thrown into 
the second dish and melted there. The flame 
is now reversed in its direction ; the oxidiz- 
ing flame; is made to enter at the si<Ie where 
till' fresh ])ig is placed. In passing over this, 
and oxidizing the carbon, silicon, and other 
impurities in the iron, the flame -loses its sur- 
))lus oxygen, and becomes of a neutral, or at 
least only slightly oxidizing character. In 
this state it passes over the other bath of 
molten iron, now partly refined, and it con- 
tiinies to act upon the impurities without at- 
tacking the iron itself. At a certain moment 
this portion of iron is completely converted 
into steel, and that part of the furnace is then 
tapped, so as to make room for a fresh charge 
of pigs in that i>lace. After that, the current 
of gases is again reversed, the second bath 
now enterhig into the position previously 



taken by the first, and so the process is car- 
ried on continuously with two portions of 
iron — one freshly introduced and acted upon 
by the oxidizing flame, tin; other partly con- 
verted into steel and exposed to the neutral 
flame passing away from the first. M. Be- 
rard states that by protracting his jjrocess, 
and by adding spiegeleisen he can remove 
sulphur and phosphorus from the iron, and 
make steel from infei'ior pigs. 

The Messrs. INIartin of Sireuil, France, 
have, with a Siemens furnace, succeeded in 
melting with pig iron, old iron rails, wrought 
iron scrap, puddled steel, &c., in the propor- 
tion of two-thirds old rails to one-third pig 
iron, and have made from the compound an 
excellent and low-priced steel for rails. 

Mr. Siemens himself patented, in 1868, 
and has since that time worked, a process for 
making natural or " raw" steel directly from 
the ore by means of a modification of his 
furnace. This can only be done successfully 
it is said by the use of the purest and best 
ores. Of other processes we may mention 
that of Mr. James Henderson, an eminent 
founder, of Brooklyn, N. Y., who, using the 
Bessemer process, has improved it by charg- 
ing the blast furnace with a mixture of iron 
and Manganese ores, or any of the IManga- 
niferous iron ores, thus incorporating the 
indispensable manganese, and causing it to 
exert its beneficial influence in purifying and 
refining the iron, at the beginning, instead 
of the end of the pneumatic i)rocess. 

Mr. John Ileaton of Nottingham, England, 
has been successful in oxidizing and remov- 
ing the carbon and other impurities with 
great rapidity by the use of nitiate of soda 
with the molten metal in the following wav : 
The *' converter " consists of a large wrought 
iron pot, lined with fire clay ; into the bot- 
tom of this a suitable quantity (about G per 
cent, usually of the weight of the pig iron or 
ore), of crude nitrate of soda combined with 
silicious sand, is introduced, and the whole 
covered with a cast-iron perforated plate. 
The molten pig is then poured in and in 
about two minutes the reaction commences ; 
at first, brown nitrous fumes are evolved, 
and after a lapse of five or six minutes, a 
violent deflagration occurs attended with a 
loud roaring noise, and a burst from the top 
of the chimney of brilliant yellow flame, 
which, in about a minute and a half sidisides 
as ra[)idly as it commenced. When all has 
become tranquil the converter is detached 
from the chimney and its contents emptied 



38 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



upon the iron pavement of the foundry. The 
steel thus produced is pronounced by eminent 
metallurgists of excellent quality and prac- 
tically free from impurities (the sodium com- 
bining with the sulphur and phosphorus), 
and it was satisfactorily demonstrated that 
uniformity of quality was attainable. The 
process is much more rapid* than any other, 
but Mr. Bessemer asserts that the addition of 
the nitrate of soda makes the cost of a ton of 
steel about five dollars more than by his 
method. Mr. Ilargreaves has patented a 
modification of this pi'ocess, combining the 
nitrate of soda with hematite ore to form a 
paste, and claims that he thus obtains addi- 
tional supply of oxygen. He states that he 
can make refined iron for puddling by the 
use of about 3 per cent, of nitrate of soda 
and six per cent, of hematite ; steel by eight 
to ten per cent, of nitrate of soda and an 
equal weight of binoxide of manganese, and 
the best quality of wrought iron. 

JMr F. Kohn, an English steel manufac- 
turer, had, in 1868, made use of the Siemens 
regenerating furnace by a new process, melt- 
ing a given quantity of the best and finest 
wrought iron in a bath of molten cast iron, 
carried to the highest heat of that furnace 
and thus making a pure steel at one ln-at 
without puddUng or cementation. By his 
process old railroad iron, scrap iron, and scrap 
steel, can be converted at once into steel of 
the best quality for rails. 

A 31r. Wilson, of Stockton-on-Tees, Eng- 
land, has patented a modification of the Sie- 
mens furnace which attains the same object 
with a still greater saving of fuel, by forcing 
air into the flue-bridge by a steam-jet, and 
causing it to pass into a conduit at the back 
of the furnace, and thence into the flame- 
bridge and up into a chamber from which, in 
a red-hot condition, it passes into and on to 
the incandescent fuel. By this improvement 
there is no necessity of grate-bars to the fur- 
nace, most of the fettling is saved, the steam 
from the heated water is at once decomposed 
and adds its quota to the intensity of the heat 
which burns up all the smoke and nearly all 
the cinder and slag. The saving in fuel is 
said to be about one-third over tlie Siemens 
furnace, and the heat is all applied directly 
to the removal of impurities and slag from 
the ores and cast iron. 

The Shoenberger Junta "Works, at Pitts- 
burgh, Pa., have patented a method of mak- 
ing refined iron and steel by a new process 
which is both simple and ingenious, melting 



in a blast furnace a quantity of crude cast 
iron of whatever quality they may have, they 
run it into a large kettle of a capacity of five 
tons and thence from it in a stream about a 
foot wide into a circular revolving trough, 
twelve inches wide and ten inches deep and 
let fall upon the molten metal from a hoppcn-, 
pulverized iron ore, Lake Superior, Cham- 
plain, or Iron mountain, in sutficient quantity 
to cover the melted metal as fast as it is 
poured in. When the trough is full, and 
before the iron cools, it is broken up into 
slabs of suitable size for a heating furnace, 
when it is only necessary to heat it as blooms 
are heated, and put it through the machinery 
to produce the best quality of horse-shoe bars, 
or by a slight variation of the process, ex- 
cellent steel. 

Mr. David Stewart, of Kittauiny, Pa., has 
patented a method of freeing cast iron from 
its carbon, sulphur, phosphorus, &c., by pour- 
ing the melted metal at full heat from a 
height of perhaps thirty feet in a thin stream 
or shower upon the ground in such a way as 
that it shall receive the action of atmospheric 
air over its entire surface, or if preferred, 
through a cylinder thirty feet or more in 
height, and open at both ends, into which air 
is constantly forced. He claims to have 
tested this process very thoroughly and to be 
capable of making pure iron or steel by it 
without puddling and without retaining any 
cinder or impurities. Messrs. J. R. Bradley 
and M. D. Brown of Chicago, 111., patented 
in 1868 eight recipes of ingredients to be 
added to melted scrap or malleable iron 
which they claimed would produce in each 
case the precise kind of steel wanted, and of 
the best quality. A Mr. J. Edwin Sherman, 
formerly a blacksmith of Bucksport, Me., but 
more recently a Government clerk at Wash- 
ington, D. C, is said to have hit upon a 
method of converting iron into steel of great 
simplicity and chea.pness, and, in the autumn 
of 1870, went by invitation to Phigland to lay 
his process before the lords of the Admiralty. 

Among the most remarkable discoveries 
of the present day, in relation to the manu- 
facture of iron, Ave must count those by which 
iron ores, hitherto regarded as worthless, have 
proved either by new processes or by mix- 
ture with other ores, or with cast iron, tlie 
best of all factors for producing the purest 
wrought iron and steel. Thus far there are 
two of these instances worthy of special no- 
tice. In the township of North Codorns, 
York Co., Pa., there are extensive beds of a 



IRON. 



39 



peculiar micaceous iron ore ; some of which 
were oponed iu lrt54 or 1855, and attempts 
were made to make iron from them, but the 
ore contained but 41.5 percent, of magnetic 
iron, and its reduction, owinjf to its j)eculiar 
combination, was attended with much hibor 
and no profit ; the ore beds were therefore 
aban(k)ned. In 18G8, it was discovered by 
accident that this unpromising ore, mixed 
with cast or pig iron of ordinary quality in 
the proportion of one to five or six in a re- 
verbeiating furnace, produced by the ordin- 
ary puddling process, a j)ure steel of admira- 
ble (piality and remarkably uniform in char- 
acter. Having tested this by a verj' great 
number of experiments the discoverers pur- 
chased the Codorus ore beds, and put up a 
puddling furnace and rolling mill at York to 
carry on the business of making steel for 
railway rails, and other purposes. The an- 
alysis of the Codorus ore, as made by the 
eminent practical chemist, Otto Wurth, of 
Pittsburg, is as follows : 

Silica, 37.35 Potash, 1.87 

Alumina, 3.21 Ma<rnctic Iron, 41.57 

Manganese, 4.45 Peroxide of Iron, 10.46 

Lime, .74 Water and Loss, .35 

loo.oe 
Further experiments, conducted under the 
eye of the veteran iron master, J. N. Wins- 
low, satisfied the owners of the ore that they 
could safely dis})ense with the puddling pro- 
cess and produce directly from the ore and 
cast iron die very best quality of steel. We 
liave ourselves examined the steel and the 
wrought iron produced by this combination, 
and in every test to wliich it can be subject- 
ed, whether of tenacity, tensile strength, 
hardness, elasticity, or capacity of receiving 
and retaining tlie highest temper, it is unsur- 
passed by any steel or iron known to manu- 
facturers. Whether wrought iron and steel 
can be made without puddling from a com- 
bination of this ore with other ores of good 
quality has not yet been ascertained, but we 
belicN'i! that it will. By the processes at 
present enqjloyed, the best of steel can be 
made with the use of fifteen or twenty per 
cent, of tins ore at a cost of not above $70 
or S75 per ton, and possibly lower. 

Of the other ore, found at Fort Leyden, 
LcAvis Co., N. Y., still more remarkable 
things are stated. The following account 
of the ores and {)rocess of reduction, made in 
the New York Tribune, is believed to be 
fully authenticated. The steel is certainly 
of excellent quality ' 



" The discovery of an inexhaustible bed 
of iron ore at Port Leyden, Lewis County, 
about 40 miles above Utica, a few years ago, 
tempted citizens of the latter-named place to 
invest about $5()(),()(i() in the efi'ort to estab- 
lish the mamifacture of iron there. The 
'Port Leyden L-on Works' were a sad fail- 
ure, and the entire amount of money invested 
in them was lost, as pig iron could not be 
produced fi'om the ore. From this impracti- 
cable ore, steel is now produced, at one fus- 
ion, by a process invented by Prof. !>. L. 
Seymour, a metallui'gist and chemist, who 
resides in this vicinity. The outlines of the 
process are as follows : The ore is crushed, 
in something like-an ordinaiy quartz-crusher, 
until it is I'cduced to about the fineness of 
rifie powder. It is then thrown into a re- 
volvhig cylinder, in which are set numer- 
ous magnets. The ore is of the kind known 
as ' magnetic' By an arrangement o\ small 
brushes, the metallic purticles are separated 
from the refuse, whieli is principally stony 
and earthy matter in the shape of fine dust. 
The application of certain chemicals and 
fusion by charcoal are the next steps in the 
process, and the innnediate product is pure 
steel, ready for molding into 'ingots. Speci- 
mens of steel thus manufactured and con- 
verted into finely-temi)ered talMe cutlery, 
and other articles, and the certificate of a 
well-known cutler of Brooklyn, who made 
the articles, that it is as good steel as he ever 
worked, and adapted to all cutlery purposes, 
have been exhibited. The cs-timated cost of 
tliis steel is less than four cents. By the 
Seymour process, it is claimed that the aim 
of iron-masters and chemists for the last 200 
years is accomplished — viz : to rid iron of 
its arch enemies, suli)lmr and j)liosphorus — 
the former rendering the metal wlial is tech- 
nically called ' red-short,' so that it files to 
pieces under the hammer when at a red heat, 
though it may be quite strong when cold ; 
wliile the least quantity of i)hosphorus ren- 
ders the metal ' cold-short,' making it weak 
and brittle when cold, though cpiite strong 
when hot. 

" The Port Leyden Works are about one- 
eighth of a nul(!"fi-om tlie railroad and the 
canal. The buildings, furnaces, etc., were 
erected several years ago at great expense ; 
and for some time there have lain in the 
forest near by nearly 100,000 busliels of 
charcoal, the overplus of what was made be- 
fore it was found that iron could not be i)ro- 
duced from the ore by the old processes." 



40 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



the roughing rolls, their faces being smooth 
and polished, and the shape of the grooves 
made as perfect as possible, to give all the 
forms of iron required in merchant bars. 
From faggots thus made the iron is prepared 
for railroad bars, the peculiar forms of which 
require rolls of complicated designs. 

The rolling mills of the United States, in 
operation in 1856, were as follows: — 

No. of Mills. States. '^Tons^* 

1 Maine 4,500 

19 Massachusetts 55,292 

2 Rhode Island 4,475 

5 Connecticut 5,759 

1 Vermont 500 

13 New York 55,172 

10 New Jersey 28,403 

91 Pennsylvania 241,484 

4 Delaware., 2,211 

■ 13 Maryland 14,812 

12 Virginia 26,355 

1 North Carolina 215 

3 South Carolina 1,210 

1 Georgia 900 

3 Tennessee 2,680 

15 Ohio 30,980 

1 Kentucky 16,865 

1 Indiana Unfinished. 

1 lUinois " 

4 Missouri 4,420 

2 Michigan 1,848 

The mills making railroad iron at the 
same time were the following, producing the 
quantities given : — 

Tons of Rails. 

The Bay State, South Boston 17,871 

" Rensselaer, Troy, N. Y 13,512 

" Trenton, N. J., about 13,000 

■' Phoenixville, Pennsylvania 18,592 

" Pottsville, Schuylkill Co., Penn 3,021 

" Lackawanna, Luzerne Co., Penn 11,338 

" Rough and Ready, Danville, Penn 5,259 

" Montour, Danville, Penn 17,538 

" Safe Harbor, Lancaster Co., Penn 7,347 

" Mount Savage, Cumberland, Maryland. . 7,159 

" Cambria, Cambria Co., Penn 13,206 

" Brady's Bend, Armstrong Co., Penn 7,533 

" Cosalo, Lawrence Co., Penn 

" Washington, Wheeling, Ya 2,355 

" McNickie, Covington, Ky 1,976 

" Newbury, near Cleveland, Ohio 

" Railroad Mill, Cleveland, Ohio 

" Wyandotte, near Detroit, Mich 1,848 

" Chicago, 111 

" Indianapolis. Indiana 

141,555 

About 1,000 tons in addition to the above 
were rolled at Pottsville, in the Palo Alto 
mill ; making a total production of 142,555 
tons of railroad iron, two-thirds of which 
were made in Pennsylvania. 

Sheet Iron. — For making sheet iron the 



bars are gradually spread out between smooth 
rolls, which are brought nearer together as 
the metal grows thinner. The Russians have 
a method of giving to sheet iron a beautifully 
polished surface, and a pliability and dura- 
bility which no other people have been able 
to imitate. All attempts that have been 
made to learn the secret of this process have 
entirely failed, and the business remains a 
monopoly with the Russians. The nearest 
imitation of this iron is produced at Pitts- 
burg, Pennsylvania, and several eastern estab- 
lishments, by what is called Wood's process. 
This consists in rolling the common sheet at 
a certain temperature while it is covered 
with linseed oil. A very fine surface is thus 
produced, but the pliability and toughness 
of the Russian iron are wanting, even though 
the sheets are often annealed in close vessels, 
and the glaze and color are also inferior. 
Sheet iron is now extensively prepared for 
roofing, and other uses requiring exposure to 
the weather, by protecting its surface with a 
coating of zinc. This application is an 
American invention, having been discovered 
in 1827, by the late Prof. John W. Revere, 
of New York. In March, 1859, he exhibited, 
at a meeting of the Lyceum of Natural His- 
tory, specimens of iron thus protected, which 
had been exposed for two years to the action 
of salt water without rusting. He recom- 
mended it as a means of protecting the iron 
fastenings of ships, and introduced the proc- 
ess into Great Britain. Sheets thus coated 
are known as galvanized iron, though the 
iron is now coated with zinc by other means 
as well as by the galvanic current. One 
method, that of Mallet, is to place the 
sheets, after they are well cleaned by acid 
and scrubbed with emery and sand, in a satu- 
rated solution of hydrochlorate of zinc and 
sulphate of ammonia; and after this in a 
bath composed of 202 parts of mercury and 
1,292 of zinc, to every ton weight of which 
a pound of potassium or sodium is added. 
The compound fuses at 680° Fahrenheit, 
and the zinc is immediately deposited upon 
the iron surface. Another method is to stir 
the sheets in a bath of melted zinc, the sur- 
face of which is covered with sal ammoniac. 
The use of heavy sheets or plates for build- 
ing purposes is also a recent application of 
iron, that adds considerably to the demand 
for the metal. The plates are stiff'ened by 
the fluting, or corrugating, which they re- 
ceive in a powerful machine, and may be 
protected by a coating of zinc. Their prep- 



IRON. 



41 



aration is largely carried on in Philadelphia; 
and in the same works a groat variety of 
other articles of liialleable iron, for domestic 
and other uses, are similarly protected with 
zinc, as window shutters, water and gas 
pipes, coal scuttles, chains for pumps, bolts 
for ships' use, hoop iron, and telegraph and 
other wire. 

The production of the principal boiler-plate 
and sheet iron establishments of the United 
States is thus given for the year 185G : — 

Tons. 
East of the Delaware there are but two mills, 
both of which are in Jersej'' City. Product 

iQ 185G ." 550 

lu E. Pennsylvania, on the Schuylkill and 

lower Susquehanna, 25 mills 21,218 

Near Wilmington, Delaware, 15 mills 1,37-1 

Between Wilmington and Baltimore, 7 mills. 2,998 
Pittsburg, Peiui., 14 mills. Sheet iron, G,437 ; 
boiler iron, 3,212; besides bars, rods, hoops, 

and nails 9,G49 

Sheet iron at the Sharon mill, Mercer Co. Penn. 500 
Bloom mill, Portsmouth, S. Ohio, and Globe 

mill, Cincinnati, about 2,000 

38,280 
A mill for boiler plate has been erected at St. Louis. 

Irox Wire. — The uses of iron wire have 
greatly increased within a few years past. 
The telegraph has created a large demand 
for it ; and with the demand the manufac- 
ture has been so much improved, especially 
in this country, that the wire has been found 
applicable to many purposes for which brass 
or copper wire was before required. It is 
prepared from small rods, which are passed 
through a succession of holes, of decreasing 
sizes, made in steel plates, the wire being 
annealed as often as may be necessary to 
prevent its becoming brittle. In this branch 
the American manufacturers have attained 
the highest perfection. The iron prepared 
from our magnetic and specular ore is un- 
e(jualled in the combined (fualities of strength 
and tlexibiUty, and is used almost exclusively 
for purposes in which these qualities are es- 
sential. But where stiffness combined with 
strength is more important, Swedish and 
Norwegian iron also are used. Much of the 
iron wire now made is almost as pliable as 
copper wire, while its strength is about 50 
per cent, greater. In Worcester, Mass., a 
large contract has been satisfactorily filled 
for No. 10 wire, one of the conditions of 
•which was that the Avire, when cold, might 
be tightly wound around another wire of the 
same size without cracking or becoming 
rough on the surfacd. Such wire is an ex- 



cellent material for ropes, and considerable 
American iron is already required for this 
use, especially for suspension bridges. Wires 
are also used for fences, and are ingeniously 
woven into ornamental patterns. The so- 
called "netting fence," thus made, can be 
rolled up like a carpet. For heavier railing 
and fences, as for the front yards of houses, 
for balconies, window guards, etc., iron bars 
and rods are now worked into ornamental 
open designs, by powerfully crimping them 
and weaving them together like wires. 

Nails. — Among the multitude of other 
important applications of malleable iron, that 
of nail making is particularly worthy of no- 
tice, as being in the machine branch of it — 
the preparation of cut nails — entirely an 
American process. Our advance in this de- 
partment is ascribed to the great demand for 
nails among us in the construction of wooden 
houses. In England, even into the present 
century, nails Avere wrought only by hand, 
employing a large population. In tlie vi- 
cinity of Birmingham it was estimated that 
60,000 persons were occupied wholly in nail 
making. Females and children, as well as 
men, worked in the shop, forging the nails 
upon anvils, from the "split iron rods" fur- 
nished for the purpose from the neighboring 
iron works. The contrast is very striking 
between their operations and those of the 
great establishments in Pennsylvania, con- 
sisting of the blast furnaces, in which the 
ores are converted into pig; of the puddling 
furnaces, in which this is made into wrought 
iron ; of the rolling and slitting mills, by 
which tlie malleable iron is made into nail- 
plates ; and of the nail machines, which cut 
up the plates and turn them into nails — all 
going on consecutively under the same roof, 
and not allowing time for the iron to cool 
until it is in the finished state, and single 
establishments producing more nails than the 
greater part of the workshops of Birming- 
ham fifty years ago. Public attention was 
directed to machine-made nails as long ago 
as 1810, by a report of the secretary of tlie 
treasury, in which he referred to the success 
already attained in their manufacture in Mas- 
sachusetts. " Twenty years ago," he states, 
" some men, now unknown, then in ob- 
scurity, began by cutting slices out of old 
hoops, and, by a common vice gripping these 
pieces, headed them with several strokes of 
the hammer. By progressive improv>emcnts, 
slitting mills were built, and the shears and 
the heading tools were perfected, yet umch 



42 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



labor and expense were requisite to make 
nails. In a little time, Jacob Perkins, Jona- 
than Ellis, and a few others, put into execu- 
tion the thoutjht of cutting and of heading 
nails by water ; but being more intent upon 
their machinery than upon their pecuniary 
affairs, they were unable to prosecute the 
business. At different times other men have 
spent fortunes in improvements, and it may 
be said with truth that more than a million 
of dollars have been expended ; but at length 
these joint efforts are crowned with com- 
plete success, and we are now able to manu- 
facture, at about one-third of the expense 
that wrought nails can be manufactured for, 
nails which are superior to them for at least 
three-fourths of the purposes to which nails 
are applied, and for most of those purposes 
they are full as good. The machines made 
use of by Odiorne, those invented by Jona- 
than Ellis, and a few others, present very 
fine specimens of American genius." The 
report then describes the peculiar character 
of the cut nail — that it was used by northern 
carpenters without their having to bore a 
hole to prevent its splitting the wood ; that 
it would penetrate harder wood than the 
wrought nail, etc. At that time, it states, 
there were twelve rolling and slitting mills 
in Massachusetts, chiefly employed in rolling 
nail plates, making nail rods, hoops, tires, 
sheet iron, and copper, and turning out about 
3,600 tons, of which about 2,400 tons were 
cut up into nails and brads. From that time 
to the present the manufacture of nails by 
machinery has been a profitable branch of 
industry in the south-eastern part of Massa- 
chusetts, the iron and the coal being fur- 
nished from the middle Atlantic states, and 
the nails, in great part, finding a market 
at the south. The following table presents 
the number of nail mills in operation in 
1856. The smaller establishments are grad- 
ually going out of the business, and tliis is 
becoming more concentrated in the coal and 
iron regions, thus saving the cost of trans- 
portation in these heavy articles. The man- 
ufacturers of New England, however, ingeni- 
ously divert a part of their operations to the 
production of smaller articles, with which 
the cost of transportation is a less item in 
proportion to their value, such as tacks, riv- 
ets, screws, butts, wire, and numerous fin- 
ished articles, the value of which consists 
more in the labor performed uj)on them and 
in the use of ingenious machinery than in 
the cost of the crude materials employed. 



NAIL FACTORIES IN THK UNITED STATES, AND THEIR PKO- 

D0CTION IN 1856. 

Tons. 
In south New England, 12 mills, nails prin- 
cipally 25,000 

Troy, New York 4,000 

Rockaway, Boonton, New Jersey, nails and 

spikes 8,250 

Southern New Jersey 4, 1 67 

On the Schuylkill, 5 mills, about. 9,000 

On the lower Susquehanna, 2 mills, about.. . 2,600 

Middle Pennsylvania, 2 mills, about 2,000 

Maryland, 2 mills 2,155 

Richmond, 1 mill- 1,075 

Pittsburg, 14 mills, nails, spikes, rivets, tacks 14,195 

Wheehng, 2 mills 6,465 

Ironton, southern Ohio, 1 mill 775 

Mahoning Co., N. E. Ohio, 1 mill 380 

Buffalo 1,400 

Total 81,462 

The number of nail machines employed in these 
mills was 2,645. 

A great variety of machines have been 
devised for nail making, very ingenious in 
their designs, and all too complicated for 
description. The iron is rolled out into bars 
for this manufacture, of 10 or 12 feet in 
length, and wide enough to make three or 
more strips, each one of which is as wide as 
the length of the nail it is to make. The 
cutting of these strips from the wider bars 
is the special work of the slitting mill, which 
is, in fact, but a branch of the rolling opera- 
tion, and carried on in conjunction with it. 
The slitting machine consists of a pair of 
rolls, one above the other, each having 5 or 
6 steel disks upon its axis, set as far apart as 
the width required for the nail-rod. Those 
upon one roll interlock with those upon the 
other, so that when the wide bar is intro- 
duced it is pressed into the grooves above 
and below, and cut into as many strips as 
there are spaces between the disks. This 
work is done with wonderful rapidity, several 
bars being passed through at once. In the 
nail factory each nail-making machine works 
upon one of these strips, or nail-rods, at a 
time, first clipping oft' a piece from the end 
presented to it, and immediately another, as 
the flat rod is turned over and the end is 
again presented to the cutter. The reason 
of turning it over for each successive cut is 
because the piece cut off for the nail is 
tapering, in order to make it a little wider 
at the end intended for the head than at the 
other, and thus, making the wider cut on al- 
ternate sides of the rod, this is regularly 
worked up into pieces of the proper shape. 
In the older operations a workman always 
sat in front of each machine, holding the 



IRON. 



43 



rod and turning it over with every clip ; but 
by a modern iniprovenient this work is also 
done by mechanical contrivance. Each 
piece, as fast as it is clipped off, disappears 
in the machine. Tiiere it is seized between 
powerful jaws, and the head is pressed up 
from the lari^e end by the short, powerful 
motion imparted to the piece of apparatus 
called the header. As it is released, it slides 
down and drops upon the floor, or in a vessel 
placed to receive the nails. 

Machinery has been applied in the United 
States to the manufacture of horse-shoe nails, 
accordiiii:; to a number of patented plans. 
Of these, the most successful is probably that 
invented about the year 1848, by Mr. L. G. 
Reynolds, of Providence ; also the inventor 
of the solid-headed pin. The form of this 
nail could not be given as in ordinary cut 
nails by the cutter, but the sides required to 
be pressed as well as the head. This in- 
volved the use of movable plates of suitable 
figure ; and as it was found that the nails 
could not be shaped except when the metal 
was softened by heat, the plates must neces- 
sarily be of the hardest steel, and protected 
as effectually as possible from the effects of 
constant working of heated iron. These 
ditficulties were fully overcome, and the 
nails, after being turned out, were toughened 
by annealing, giving them all the excellent 
qualities of hand-made nails, with the ad- 
vantage of perfect uniformity of size, so that 
one nail answers as well as another for the 
holes in the horse-shoes. They are, more- 
over, made with great rapidity, each machine 
producing half a ton of nails in 12 hours. 
The process has been taken to Europe, and 
is there in successful operation. Spikes, also, 
have been made and headed in similar ma- 
chines ; and among all small articles in iron, 
none, perhaps, has proved so profitable to 
the inventor as the hook-headed spike, used 
for holding down, by its projecting head, the 
edge of the iron rails to the sill. This was 
the invention of Mr. Henry i Uirden, of Troy, 
whose machines for wrought-iron spikes and 
for horse-shoes have also proved very success- 
ful. By the latter, perfect shoes are turneil 
out at the rate of 60 in a minute. This proc- 
ess has been introduced in most of the 
European countries. 



As already remarked, steel differs in com- 
position from metallic iron oidy by contain- 
ing from i to li per cent, of carbon, and 



from cast-iron by the latter containing a 
larger proportion of carbon, which may 
amount to 5.5 per cent. To readily convert 
these varieties into each other is an object 
of no small importance, for their properties 
are so entirely distinct, that they really serve 
the purposes of three different metals. Steel 
is particularly valuable for its extreme hard- 
ness, fine grain, and compact texture, which 
admits of its receiving a high polish. It is 
the most elastic of metals, and much less 
liable to rust than iron. It has the peculiar 
property of assuming different degrees of 
hardness, according to the rapidity with 
which it is chilled when heated ; and it may 
be melted and run into moulds like cast iron, 
and the ingots thus prepared may be ham- 
mered, rolled, and forged into shapes like 
wrought iron ; and these may finally be tem- 
pered to any degree of hardness desired. 
Differing so little in composition from me- 
tallic iron and from cast iron, and being 
so universally in demand for a multitude of 
uses, it would seem that it ought to be pro- 
duced as cheaply as one or the other of the 
varieties, between which its composition 
places it. But this is far from being the 
case. While pig iron is worth only %20 to 
$30 per ton, and bar iron 860 to $90, cast 
steel in bars is worth from $250 to $300 per 
ton. This is chiefly owing to the difficulty 
of procuring in large quantities steel of uni- 
form character, which the consumers of the 
article can purchase with perfect confidence 
that it is what they require and have been 
accustomed to use. The English boast, with 
good reason, of the position they occupy in 
this manufacture, which is almost a monopoly 
of the steel trade of the whole world. Though 
producing themselves little or no iron fit for 
making alone the best steel, they have im- 
ported enough of the Swedish and Norwe- 
gian bar iron to insure a good quality, and 
have been especially cautious to render this 
as uniform as possible. Their method of 
manufacture is to introduce carbon into the 
wrought iron by what is called the cementing 
process. On the continent of iinrope steel 
is made to some extent, in Silesia and Styria, 
by removing from cast iron enough of its 
carbon to leave the proper proportion for 
steel, and then melting the product and cast- 
ing it into ingot moulds. But this cheaper 
method does not appear to have been taken 
up in Great Britain. In the United States 
several processes arc in operation, two of 
which are peculiarly American. The cc- 



44 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



meriting method, as conducted in England, 
has been longest known, and "will be first de- 
scribed. The cementing furnace is a sort of 
oven, furnished with troughs or shelves, upon 
Avhich charcoal dust is laid for receiving the 
bars. These are placed edgewise in the 
charcoal, half an inch apart, and the spaces 
..are filled in with more sifted coal. Enmigh 
is added to cover the bars, and upon this a 
second tier'is laid in the same way, and so 
on till the trough is filled with several tons 
of iron, all of which is perfectly excluded 
from the air. The trough being secured 
with others in the oven, a fire is started 
under them. In about six days the bars 
have absorbed enough carbon to acquire the 
properties of the softer kinds of steel, such 
as arc used for saws and springs. In a day 
or two longer it answers for cutting instru- 
ments, and some time after this it gains in 
hardness, so as to be fitted for cold chisels, 
for drills such as miners use, etc. Its 
character is ascertained at any time by 
drawing out one of the bars. After the 
change is effected the fire is extinguished, 
and about a week is allowed for the furnace 
and its contents to cool. When at last the 
bars are obtained, their surface is found to be 
covered with blisters, whence the steel is 
called blistered steel. The fibrous texture 
of the iron has given place to a granular 
structure, but is so irregular and uneven that 
the metal requires further treatment to per- 
fect it. To make the English shear-steel, so 
called from its being originally employed for 
shears used in sheep-shearing, the bars arc 
cut into lengths of a foot and a half, and 
a number of these are bound together to 
make a faggot. This is brought to a weld- 
ing heat, and drawn down first under a forge- 
hammer, and then under the tilt-hammer. 
This weighs from 150 to 200 pounds, and 
strikes from 150 to 360 strokes a minute. 
The rapidity of the work keeps the steel at 
a glowing heat, and it is soon fashioned into 
a dense bar of smooth surface, susceri^ible 
of a polish, and suited for the manufacture 
of cutting instruments. Sometimes it is cut 
into pieces to be refaggoted, and drawn down 
again into bars, which are then called double- 
shear. 

Cast steel is a still more dense and perfect 
variety. It is prepared by melting, in large 
crucibles, blistered steel broken into small 
pieces, and pouring the metal into moulds. 
These are then worked into shapes by the 
forge hammer and the rolls. 



The American methods of making steel 
were discovered by Prof. A. K. Eaton, of 
New York, and the one now employed by the 
Damascus Steel Company was practically 
demonstrated by him in Rochester and its vi- 
cinity in 1851 and 1852. This consists in car- 
bonizing and melting malleable iron in cruci- 
bles at one operation, by introducing into the 
pot with the pieces of iron a carbonaceous salt, 
such as the ferro-cyanide of potassium, either 
alone or in combination with charcoal powder. 
At an intense heat this salt rapidly carbon- 
izes the iron, Avhich thus first becomes steel, 
then fuses, and is poured into moulds. The 
quantity of the salt employed is proportional 
to the quantity of the iron and the quality 
of the steel required. The operation is suc- 
cessfully carried on in difterent establish- 
ments in New Jersey, New York, and Penn- 
sylvania, and cast steel of the very best 
quality is produced at less expense than the 
article has ever before cost in this country. 
For bar steel, according to the prospectus of 
the company, the best charcoal-made iron is 
employed, costing $85 per ton, and this, to- 
gether with the coal used for fuel, the chem- 
ical materials, the melting, crucildes, and 
hammering, make the whole cost about $142 
per ton, while that of the imported article is 
$300 or more. The great difficulty in the 
process is to obtain suitable crucibles for 
withstanding the intense heat required to 
melt the charge of 60 lbs. of malleable iron. 
Those in use are blue-pots, costing $1.60 
each. Though made of the best of plum- 
bago, they stand only two or three meltings. 

The other process, which is just now in- 
troduced into practice, is based upon the prop- 
erty of carbonate of soda to remove from cast 
iron the carbon it contains, when the metal is 
kept for a few hours in a bath of the melted 
alkali. The decarbonizing effect is in part due 
to the action of the oxygen of the alkaline 
base, which is given up to the carbon of highly 
heated cast iron, but principally to the decom- 
position of the combined carbonic acid, which 
gives to the carbon one of its atoms of oxygen, 
and is resolved into carbonic oxide. This prop- 
erty of soda was discovered by Prof. Eaton in 
1856, but the fact that the carbonated or bi- 
carbonated alkalies act principally by virtue 
of their carbonic acid, was only recently rec- 
ognized and made practically available by 
liim. The action of soda or its carbonates is 
not limited to the removal of the excess of 
carbon in ciust iron. It combines with and 
removes those impurities which would prove 



IRON. 



'45 



fatal to the quality of the steel if remaining 
in it, as sulphur, phosphorus, and silicon ; 
and the method thus admits of the use of 
erude irons, such as could never he applied 
to this manufacture hy any other mode. 
The cast iron, in the form of thin plates, hav- 
infj been kept at a bright red heat in the 
bath (if melted carbonate forasuflicient time, 
which is determined by occasionally taking 
out and testing some of the pieces, is trans- 
ferred to the crucible, and is then melted 
and poured into moulds, as in the ordinary 
method of making cast steel. The crucibles, 
not being subjected to greater heat than is 
requiretl for melting cast steel, endure much 
longer than when employed for melting 
Avrought iron in the carbonizing process ; 
thus a great saving is eftected in the expense 
of the conversion; and this economy is still 
further increased by the use of a crude ma- 
terial, costing only from -^20 to ^30 per ton, 
in place of the superior qualities of wrought 
iron, worth ^85 per ton. So great, indeed, 
is the saving, that the cost of the cast steel, 
Avhen obtained in ingots, is found not to ex- 



ceed the cost of the malleable iron employed 
in the other process. 

Statistics. — The records of the produc- 
tion of iron of the United States are very in- 
complete up to the year 1854. Even the cen- 
sus returns are highly defective, as they often 
make no distinction between iron made 
from the ore and the products of the second- 
ary operations of remeltiiig and puddling. 
The first systematic attempts to obtain com- 
plete accounts of the business, as conducted 
in Pennsylvania, were made in 1850 by the 
Association of Iron Manufacturers, organized 
in Philadelphia. Mr. Charles E. Smith col- 
lected the returns, and published them in a 
small volume, together with other papers re- 
lating to the manufacture. In 1856 the as- 
sociation, through their secretary, Mr. J. P. 
Lesley, and their treasurer, Mr. C. E. Smith, 
obtained full returns from 832 blast furnaces, 
488 forges, and 225 rolling mills in the Unit- 
ed States, besides others i)i Canada, exhibit- 
ing their operations for the preceding three 
years. Some of these results are presented 
in the following tables : — 



NO 1.— TABLE OF IRON WORKS IN OPERATION AND ABANDONED IN 1858. 

„„',"'^*;"u. Abandoned Bloomary Abandoned Refinery Abandoned Rolling,. , , 

and l.Oke p„rna^pa P«ro.«<i Rlnnm>iri«« Fnr<TAs Uofinoii..^ Mill. AbandOned- 

Furnaces. 



Anthracite 
Furnaces. 



Furnaces. Forges. Bloomaries. Forges. liefineries. 



Maine 1 

New Hampshire 1 

Vermont 5 

Massacliusetts 3 7 

Rhode Island 

Connecticut 1 14 

New York 14 29 6 

New Jersey 4 6 12 

Pennsylvania 93 150 102 

Delaware . . 1 

Maryland 6 24 7 

Virginia 39 56 

North Carolina 3 3 

South Carolina 4 4 

Georgia 7 1 

Alabama 3 1 

Tennessee 41 33 

Kentucky 30 17 

Ohio 54 20 

Indiana 2 3 

Illinois 2 

Michigan 7 

Wisconsin 3 

Missouri 7 

Arkansas 



42 

48 

1 



36 

2 

4 

14 

60 



1 

29 
3 



6 

3 

2 

110 



43 



44 



Mills 
1 

1 
19 

2 

5 
11 
10 
91 

4 
13 
12 

1 

3 

2 



15 
1 
1 
2 



1 



Total 



121 



439 272 206 35 ISO 64 210 

In working order, 560 Furnaces, 389 Forges, 210 Rolling Mills. Total, 1,159 
Abandoned, 272 " 99 " 15 " " 38G 



15 



In all. 



832 



488 



The production of the blast furnaces in the 

diflerent iron districts for the years 1854, 
1855, and 1856, is exhibited in Table No. 



225 " " 1,545 

2 ; their arrangement being according to the 
fuel employed and the quantities of iron 
produced in each district in 1856 : — 



46 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



TABLE NO. 2.— PRODUCTION OF PIG IRON. 



Fuel. 



District. 



1854. 



Anthracite Pennsylvania 

" Out of PennHylvania 

Charcoal and Colce S. Oliio 56,0S1 

' .E. Kc-ntufky 22,929 

" " " W.Pennsylvania T8,927 

'• N Oliio 11,2S9 

" " " E. I'ennsvlvania 

Charcoal W Tennessee 37,91S 

W. Kentucky 12,236 

" S. Indiana 1,4U0 

S. Illinois 1,500 

Charcoal and Coke S. W. Pennsylvania 11,052 

" >' N. W. Virginia 1,930] 

" " " Maryland 

Charcoal E. of the Hudson 

" N. and W. New York 

" Missouri 

" 8. New York and N. New Jersey 

" E. and Middle Virginia 

" North and South Carolina 1,820] 

Georgia 2,391 

" E. Tennessee and Alabama 1,845' 

Michigan 990 

" Wisconsin 

Total production of pig iron in the United States Tons . 725,823 



208,fi03 
99,007 

[ 79,010 

[ 90,216 
62,724 

53,054 



12,952 

36,658 
30,420 
19,197 

7,591 
13,435 

5,880 

■ 6,056 



47.982 

16,180 
59,388 
9,926 



255,326 
87,779 

i 64,162 

!■ 69,314 

.'... 60,596 
33,6831 
13,664 I ,„ ,, ,- 

i;500 f ^^'•^^' 

1,500 J 

l^fgl • ( 20.559 

.... 36.309 
.... 32,826 
.... 19,736 
10,181 

■;,9oi 

6,926 



70.4.15 I 
21,661 i 
59,597 I 
17,056 ' 

.32,16-! 

14,902 
1,800 
l.KlloJ 

29.400 I 
1,467 S 



306,972 
87,537 

92,116 

76,653 
52,775 



50,664 



1,880 ; 
2,715 ' 
1,516 I 



6,061 



1,9.56 

2,807 
2,9.31 
B,678 
2,500 



728,973 



[ 30,867 

30,993 
29.937 
18,847 
10,138 
5,663 
5,730 

l 7,694 
i 6,178 
812,789 



TABLE NO. 3.— DISTRIBUTION OF THE FUR- 
NACtS BY STATES. 



No. 

3 

1 

14 

4 

93 

_6 

121 

21 
3 

"24 



I. ANTHRACITE rURNACKS. 

Stites Product. 

States. rp^jjjg 

Massachusetts 4,443 

Connecticut 

New York 47,257 

New Jersey 26,117 

Pennsylvania 306,972 

Maryland 10,720 

394,509 

II. COKE FURNACES. 

Pennsylvania 39,953 

Maryland 4,528 

44,481 



III. BAW BITUMINOUS COAL FURNACES. 

6 Pennsylvania 8,417 

13 Ohio 16,656 

"19 25,073 

IV. CHARCOAL FURNACES. 

1 Maine 2,100 

1 New Hampshire 

5 Vermont 2,420 

7 Massachusetts 8,564 

14 Connecticut 12,876 

29 New York 21,774 

6 New Jersey. . 2,100 

143 Pennsylvania 96,154 

21 Maryland 26,470 

39 Virginia 14,828 

3 North Carolina 450 

4 South Carolina 1,506 

1 Georgia 2,807 

3 AlaVjama 1,495 

41 Tennessee 28,476 

30 Kentucky 36,563 

41 Ohio 70,355 

2 Indiana 1,800 

2 Illinois 1,900 

7 Missouri 10,1.38 

3 Wisconsin 2,500 

7 Michigan 3,678 

416 348,954 



Anthracite, as above. 
Coke, " 

Raw Coal, " 
Charcoal, " 



No. of Furnaces. Tons. 

121 394.509 

24 44,481 

19 25,073 

416 348.954 



Total pig 580 813,017 

Table No. 4.— PRODUCT OF WROUGHT IRON 
DIRECT FROM THE ORE, ls56. 

Product. 
Tons. 



Bloomaries. 



States. 



5 Vermont 1,650 

42 New York 18,710 

48 New Jersey 4,487 

36 North Carolina 1,182 

2 South CaroHna 640 

4 Georgia 40 

14 Alabama 252 

50 Tennessee 1,222 

3 Michigan 450 



204 
Pig iron as above. 



28,633 
812,917 



Grand total production of iron from 

the ore in 1856 841,550 

In addition to this amount, the importa- 
tions for the year 1856 of iron designed for 
manufacture are estimated at 363,998 tons, 
consisting of Scotch pig, 55,403 tons ; rolled 
and hammered iron, 298,275 tons; and scraps, 
10,320 tons; and if to this be added for old 
rails reworked, 100,000 tons, and for scrap, 
25,000 tons, the total amount of iron enter- 
ing into domestic consumption was 1,330,548 
tons. The importation of railroad iron not 
included in the above was 167,400 tons. 
The proportion of foreign iron introduced 
into the general consumption, not including 
rails, was about 30 per cent. 

The value of the immediate products of 
the manufacture of domestic iron is thus 
given at the prices current in 1856 : — 



IRON. 



47 



Foundry pip 302,154 tons a $27, $8,158,158 

Foundry cold-blast ) 

charcoal iron for V 35,000 " a 35, 1,225,000 

car wheels, &c. . . . ) 

Eails 142,555 " a 63, 8,980,9G5 

Boilerand sheet.... "38, 639 " ci 120, 4,636,680 

Nails 81,462 " a 84, 6,842,808 

^^^Yd"^' •'««?' ^"^[235,425 " a 65,15,302,625 

Hammered iron 21,000 " a 125, 2,625,000 

Total $47,771,236 

Mr. Smith presents the foIh)wing concki- 
sion to the "Statistical Report of the Iron 
Manufacture:" "The great facts demon- 
strated are, tliat we liave nearly 1,200 effi- 
cient works in the Union ; that these pro- 
duce annually about 850,000 tons of iron, 
the value of which in an ordinary year is 
850,000,000; of this amount the portion 
expended for labor alone is about $35,000,- 
000." 

Since 1856 no attempts have been made 
to collect the statistics of the iron business 
of the United States, and consequently but 
a very general statement can be given of 
the changes which have taken place. The 
total annual production has probably not 
varied much from 800,000 tons — exceed- 
ing rather than falling short of this amount. 
In the Leiiigh valley the business is rapidly 
increasing, while the charcoal iron manufac- 
ture in different parts of the country is 
steadily diminishing. In the vicinity of 
Baltimore only one furnace was in operation 
in November, 1860; and besides another at 
Texas, in Baltimore county, and one of the 
bog ore furnaces on the eastern shore, it is 
believed all the rest, including those in the 
bituminous coal region, were out of blast. 
The business, however, in general is in a 
sound condition, and great improvements 
have been made in diminishing the cost of 
the manufacture, by means of more care in 
the superintendence and by reducing the 
general expenses and the number of hands 
employed to the ton of iron produced. 

The census of 1860 gives the following 
statistics of the iron production and manu- 
facture of that year. There had been very 
little progress in the production of iron in 
the country for several years previous, ia 
consequence of the very low rate of duty at 
which foreign railroad and other iron was 
admitted. 

Iron blooms, valued at $2,623,178 

Pig iron 20,870,120 

Bar, sheet and railroad iron. . 31,888,705 



Iron wire 1,643,857 

Iron forgings 1,!M) 7,460 

Car wheels 2,083^350 

Iron castings of all kinds ?Xi, 1 :!2,o;53 

$97,148,705 



The opening of the war, in 1861, gave an 
extraordinary impetus to iron production 
and manufacture. The tariff and other 
causes reduced the importation to a mini- 
mum, while the demand for iron for the 
fabrication of small arms and cannon ; for 
the construction of the large fleet of iron- 
clads, and for the other war vessels ; for the 
building of locomotives, the casting of car 
wheels and furnishing the vast quantity of 
railroad iron needed to repair the old tracks 
destroyed l)y the contending armies, and to 
lay the tracks of new roads, extended the 
business vastly beyond all former precedent ; 
and the re(]uirement that the Pacific railroad 
and its branches shall be constructed solely 
of American iron, as well as the increase in 
its use for buildings, and for shipping, have 
maintained it in a prosperous condition. 

The manufacture of steel and the other 
manufactures of iron, aside from those al- 
ready enumerated, brought the aggregate 
production and manufacture of iron and 
steel, in 1860, up to $285,879,510. The 
revenue tax paid on iron and steel manufac- 
tures in 1864 indicates that the product of 
the branches taxed amounted to about 
8123,000,000. This estimate was far below 
the production, as many branches were not 
taxed, and the returns of that year were im- 
perfect. The production and manufacture of 
1865 were not less than 400 millions of dollars. 
There is every reason to expect that the de- 
velopment of the iron mines will be pushed 
forward with constantly increasing energy, 
and that the time is not far distant when 
many of the great repositories of ores we 
have described — now almost untouched — 
will be the seats of an active industry and 
centres of a thriving population, supported 
by the liome markets they will create. The 
great valley of the west, when filled with 
the population it is capable of supporting, 
and intersected in every direction with the 
vast system of railroads, of which the present 
lines form but the mere outlines, will itself 
require more iron than the world now pro- 
duces, and the transportation of large por- 
tions of this from the great iron regions of 
northern Michigan and Wisconsin, and of 



48 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



coal back to the mines, will sustain larger 
lines of transportation than have ever yet been 
employed in conveying to their markets the 
most important products of the country. 
The importation of foreign iron — already 
falling off in proportion to the increased con- 
sumption — must, before many years, cease, 
and be succeeded by exports for the supplies 
of other nations less bountifully provided for 
in this respect than the United States and 
Great Britain. 



CHAPTER II. 

COPPER. 

The early attempts to work copper mines 
in the United States have already been al- 
luded to in the introductory remarks to the 
department of this work relating to mining 
industry. The ores of this metal are widely 
distributed throughout the country, and in 
almost every one of the states have been 
found in quantities that encouraged their ex- 
ploration — in the great majority of cases to 
the loss of those interested. The metal is 
met with in all the New England states, but 
only those localities need be named which 
have at times been looked upon as important. 

Copper occurs in a native or metallic state, 
and also in a variety of ores, or combi- 
nations of the metal with other substances. 
In these forms the metallic appearance is 
lost, and the metal is obtained by different 
metallurgical operations, an account of some 
of which will be presented in the course of 
this chapter. Until the discovery of the 
Lake Superior mines, native copper, from its 
scarcity, was regarded rather as a curiosity 
than as an important source of supply. The 
workable ores were chiefly pyritous copper, 
vitreous copper, variegated copper, the red 
oxide, the green carbonate or malachite, and 
chrysocolla. The first named, though con- 
taining the least proportion of copper, has 
furnislied more of the metal than all the 
other ores together, and is the chief depen- 
dence of most of the mines. It is a double 
sulphuret of copper and iron, of bright yel- 
low color, and consists, when pure, of about 
34 per cent, of copper, 35 of sulphur, and 
30 of iron. But the ore is always inter- 
mixed with quartz or other earthy minerals, 
bv which its richness is greatly reduced. As 
brought out from the mine it may not con- 
tain more than 1 per cent, of copper, and 
when freed as far as practicable from foreign 



substances by the mechanical processes of 
assorting, crushing, washing, jigging, etc., 
and brought up to a percentage of 6 or 7 of 
copper, it is in Cornwall a merchantable ore, 
and the mine producing in large quantity the 
poor material from which it is obtained may 
be a profitable one. Vitreous copper, known 
also as copper glance, and sulphuret of cop- 
per, is a lead gray ore, very soft, and con- 
tains 79.8 per cent, of copper, united with 
20.2 per cent, of sulphur. It is not often 
found in large quantity. Variegated or pur- 
ple copper is distinguished by its various 
shades of color and brittle texture. It yields, 
when pure, from 56 to 63 per cent, of copper, 
21 to 28 of sulphur, and 7 to 14 of iron. 
The red oxide is a beautiful ore of ruby red 
color, and consists of 88.8 per cent, of cop- 
per and 11.2 per cent, of oxygen. It is 
rarely found in sufficient quantity to add 
much to the products of the mines. Green 
malachite is a highly ornamental stone, of 
richly variegated shades of green, famous as 
the material of costly vases, tables, etc., man- 
ufactured in Siberia for the Russian govern- 
ment. It is always met with in copper 
mines, especially near the surface, but rarely 
in large or handsome masses. It consists 
of copper 57.5, oxygen 14.4, carbonic acid 
19.9, and water 8.2 per cent. Chrysocolla 
is a combination of oxide of copper and 
silica, of greenish shades, and is met with as 
an incrustation upon other copper ores. It 
often closely resembles the malachite in ap- 
pearance. It contains about 36 per cent, of 
copper. 

The first mines worked in the United 
States were peculiar for the rich character 
of their ores. These were, in great part, 
vitreous and variegated copper, with some 
malachite, and were found in beds, strings, 
and bunches in the red sandstone formation, 
especially along its line of contact with the 
gneiss and granitic rocks in Connecticut, and 
with the trap rocks in New Jersey. The 
mine at Simsbury, in Connecticut, furnished 
a considerable amount of such ores from the 
year 1709 till it was purchased, about the 
middle of the last century, by the state, 
from which time it was occupied for sixty 
years as a prison, and worked by the con- 
victs ; not, liowever, to much profit. In 
1830 it came into possession of a company, 
but was only worked for a short time after- 
ward. On the same geological range, but 
lying chiefly in the gneiss rocks, the most 
productive of these mines was opened in 



49 



1836, in Bristol, Coim. It was vigorously 
worked from 1847 to 1857, and produced 
larger amounts of rich vitreous and pyritous 
ores than have been obtained from any other 
mine in the United States. No expense was 
spared in prosecuting the mining, and in 
furnishing efficient machinery for dressing the 
ores. Ahhough 18U0 tons of ore, producing 
over S2UO,000, were sent to market, the ore 
yielding from 18 to 50 per cent, of copper, 
the mine proved a losing atlair, and was 
finally abandoned in 1857. 

The New Jersey miues have all failed. 
from insufficient supply of the ores. The 
Schuyler mine, at Belleville, produced rich 
vitreous copper and chrysocolla, disseminated 
through a stratum of light brown sandstone, 
of 20 to 30 feet in thickness, and dipping at 
an angle of 12°. During the periods of its 
being worked in the last century, the exca- 
vations reached the depth of 200 feet, and 
were carried to great distances on the course 
of the metalliferous stratum. The mine was 
then so highly valued that an offer of £500,- 
000, made for it by an English company, was 
refused by the proprietor, Mr. Schuyler. In 
1857-58 attempts were made by a New 
York company to work the mine again, but 
the enterprise soon failed. Among the other 
mines which have been worked to consid- 
erable extent in New Jersey are the Flem- 
ington mine, which resembled in the char- 
acter of its ore the Schuyler mine, and tiie 
Bridgewater mine, near Somerville, at which 
native copper in some quantity was found in 
the last century; twopiecesmet within 1754 
weighing together, it was reported, 1,900 lbs. 
A mine near New Brunswick also furnished 
many lumps of native copper, and thin sheets 
of the metal were found included in the sand- 
stone. At different times this mine has been 
thorougldy explored, to the loss of those en- 
gaged in the enterprise. In Somerset county, 
the Franklin mine, near Griggstown, has been 
worked to the depth of 100 feet. Carbonate 
and red oxide of copper were found in the 
shales near the trap, but not in quantity suf- 
ficient to pay expenses. In Pennsylvania, 
near the Schuylkill river, in Montgomery and 
Chester counties, many mines have been 
worked for copper and lead at the junction 
of the red sandstone and gneiss. Those 
veins included wholly in the .shales of the 
red sandstone group were found to produce 
copper chiefly, while tliose in the gneiss were 
productive in lead ores. At the Perkiomen 
and Ecton mines — both upon the same lode 



—extensive mining operations have been 
carried on ; a shaft upon the latter having 
reached in 1853 the depth of 396 feet. The 
sales of copper ores during the three years 
the mines were actively worked amounted 
to over $40,500 ; but the product was not 
sufficient to meet the expenditures. 

The mines in Frederick county, Maryland, 
in the neighborhood of Liberty, were n(>ar 
the red sandstone formation, though included 
in argillaceous and talcose slates. A num- 
ber of them have been worked at different 
times up to the year 1853, when they were 
finally given up as unprofitable. 

A more newly discovered and richer cop- 
per district in Maryland is near Sykesville, 
on the Baltimore and Ohio railroad, 32 miles 
from Baltimore, in a region of micaceous, 
talcose, and chloritic slates. A large bod of 
specular iron ore lying between the slates 
was found to contain, at some depth below 
the surface, carbonates and silicates of cop- 
per, and still further down copper pyrites. 
In the twelve months preceding April 1, 
1857, 300 tons had been mined and sent to 
market, the value of which was $17,896.92, 
and the mine was reported as improving. 
The ore sent to the smelting works at Balti- 
more, in December of that year, yielded 
16.03 per cent, of copper. Within seven 
miles of Baltimore the Bare Hill mine has 
produced considerable copper, associated 
with the chromic iron of that region. 

Like the last two named, all the other lo- 
calities of copper ores of any importance 
along the Appalachian chain and east of it 
are remote from the range of the red sand- 
stone, and belong to older rock formations. 
In the granites of New Hampshire, pyritous 
copper has been found in many places, but has 
nowhere been mined to any extent. In Ver- 
mont, mining operations were carried on for 
several years upon a large lode of pyritous 
copper, which was traced several miles 
through Vershire and Corinth. At Straf- 
ford, pyritous ores were worked in 1829 and 
afterward, both for copperas and copper. In 
New York, excellent pyritous ores were pro- 
duced at the Ulster lead mine in 1853. 
Among other sales of similar qualities of ore, 
one lot of 50 tons produced 24.3 per cent, of 
copper. 

In Virginia, rich ores of red oxide of cop- 
per, associated with native copper and pyri- 
tous copper, are found in the metamorphic 
slates at jVIanasses Gap, and also in many 
other places further south along the Blue 



50 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



Ridge. The very promising appearance of 
the ores, and their numerous localities, would 
encourage one to believe that this will prove 
to be a copper region, were it not that, when 
explored, the ores do not seem to lie in any 
regular form of vein. In the southern part 
of the state, in Carroll, Floyd, and Grayson 
counties, copper was discovered in 1852, and 
mines were soon after opened in a district 
of metamorphic slates, near their junction 
with the lower silurian limestones. The 
copper was met with in the form of pyritous 
ore, red oxide, and black copper, beneath 
large outcropping masses of hematite iron 
ore, or gossan. Some of the shipments are 
said to have yielded over 20 per cent, of 
copper. The amount of ores sent east, over 
the Virginia and Tennessee railroad, in 1855, 
was 1,931,403 lbs. ; in 1856, 1,972,834 lbs.; 
and in the nine months ending June 30, 
1857, 1,085,997 lbs.; 1858, 688,418 lbs.; 
1859, 1,151,132 lbs.; and 1860, 2,679,673 
lbs. Copper ores are very generally met with 
in the gold mines of this state, and further 
south, but the only one of them that has been 
worked expressly for copper is that of the 
North Carolina Copper Company, in Guilford 
county. From this a considei'able amount 
of pyritous copper ores were sent to the 
north in 1852 and 1853. 

In Tennessee, an important copper region 
lies along the southern line of Polk county, 
and extends into Gilmer county, Georgia. 
The ore was first found in 1847, associated 
with masses of hematite iron ores, which 
formed great outcropping ledges, traceable 
for miles from south-west to north-east along 
the range of the micaceous and talcose slates. 
An examination of the ores, made to ascer- 
tain the cause of their working badly in the 
furnace, was the means of corroborating or 
giving importance to the discovery of the 
copper. In 1851 copper mining was com- 
menced, and afterward prosecuted with great 
activity by a number of companies. The 
ore was found in seven or eight parallel lodes 
of the ferruginous matters, all within a belt 
of a mile in width. At the surftice there 
was no appearance of it, but as the explora- 
tions reached the depth of seventy -five or 
one hundred feet below the surface of the 
hills, it was met with in various forms, re- 
sulting from the decomposition of pyritous 
copper, and much mixed with the ochreous 
matters derived from a similar source. In a 
soft black mass, easily worked by the pick, 
and of extraordinary dimensions, were found 



intermixed diff'erent oxides and other ores 
of copper, yielding various proportions of 
metal, and much of it producing 20 per cent, 
and more, fit to be barrelled up at once for 
transportation. This ore spread out in a 
sheet, varying in width at the dift'erent 
mines ; at the Eureka mine it was 50 feet 
wide, and at the Hiwassee 45 feet, while at 
the Isabella mine the excavations have been 
extended between two walls 250 feet apart. 
In depth this ore is limited to a few feet only, 
except as it forms bunches running up into 
the gossan or ochreous ores. Below the 
black ore is the undecomposed lode, consist- 
ing of quartz, more or less charged with 
pyritous copper, red oxide, green carbonate, 
and gray sulphuret of copper ; and it is upon 
these the permanent success of the mines 
must depend. About 14 mining companies 
have been engaged in this district, and the 
production of the most successful of them 
was as follows, up to the year 1858: Isa- 
bella, 2,500 tons; Calloway, 200; Mary's, 
1,500 ; Polk county, 2,1U0 ; Tennessee, 
2,200 ; Hiwassee, 2,500 ; Hancock, 2,000 — 
making a total of 13,000 tons, yielding from 
15 to 40 per cent, of copper, and worth $100 
per ton, or 81,300,000. In addition to this, 
the products of the London mine, yielding 
an average of 45 per cent, of copper, amount- 
ed to over $200,000 in value ; and the prod- 
ucts of the Eureka mine were rated for 
1855 at $86,000; for 1856 at $123,000; 
and for 1857 at $136,000. The value of the 
ores remaining at the mines too poor to 
transport, but valuable to smelt in furnaces 
on the spot, was estimated at $200,000 more. 
Furnaces for smelting, on the German plan, 
were in operation in 1857, and produced 
the next year 850 tons of matt, or regulus. 
At the Eureka mine, in 1858, there were 4 
reverberatory furnaces, 2 blast, and 2 cal- 
cining furnaces. The fuel employed is wood 
and charcoal. By the introduction of smelt- 
ing operations, ores of 5 to 6 per cent, are 
now advantageously reduced. 

In 1857 the mines of a large portion of 
this district were incorporated into the so- 
called Union Consolidated Mining Company, 
and most of the other mines were taken up 
by the Burra Burra Company and the Polk 
County Company. The principal interests 
in the last two are held in New Orleans. 
The first named own 11 mines, of which 
they are working three only, with a monthly 
production of 750 to 800 tons of 12 per cent. 
copper, besides 5 or 6 tons of precipitate 



COPPER. 



51 



copper. This is metallic copper, precipitated 
from the waters of the mine by means of 
scrap iron thrown into tbe vats in which 
these waters are collected. The iron being 
taken up by the acids which hold the cop- 
per in solution, the latter is set free, and de- 
posited in fine metallic powder. The ore is 
smelted in furnaces constructed on the Ger- 
man plan, and being put through twice, pro- 
duce a rcguhis of 55 per cent. As soon as 
the proper furnaces and refineries can be 
constructed, it is intended to make ingot 
copper, and by working more of the mines 
belonging to the company it is expected the 
monthly production will soon be raised to 
2,000 tons of 10 to 12 per cent. ore. 

The two other companies have erected ex- 
tensive smelting works ; and the mines of 
the Burra Burra are producing 450 to 500 
tons per month of 14 per cent, ore, and 
those of the Polk County Company about 
300 tons of 15 per cent. ore. Both com- 
panies will soon be able to make ingot cop- 
per. The report of the Union Consolidated 
Company for the first year of their opera- 
tions presents, against expenditures amoimt- 
ing to §307,182!77, receipts of $457,803.73, 
leaving a profit of $150,620.96. A large 
portion of the regulus is shipped to England 
for sale. 

The profits of these mines were greatly 
reduced the first few years of their operation 
by the necessity of transporting the ores 40 
miles to a railroad, and thence more than 
1,000 miles by land and water to the north- 
ern smelting works. The establishment of 
furnaces at the mines not only reduces this 
source of loss, but renders the great body 
of poorer ores available, which they were not 
before. A railroad is now in process of con- 
struction to connect the mines with the 
Georgia railroads. 

West of the Alleghanies, the only copper 
mines, besides those of Lake Superior, are 
in the lead region of Wisconsin, Iowa, and 
Missouri. A considerable number of them 
liave been worked to limited extent, and 
small blast furnaces have been in operation 
smelting the ores. These were found only 
near the surface, in the crevices that con- 
tained the lead ores ; and in Missouri, in 
horizontal beds in the limestone, along the 
line of contact of the granite. The ores 
were mixed pyritous copper and carbonate, 
always in very limited quantity. The amount 
of copper produced has been unimportant, 
and it is not likely that any considerable in- 



crease in the supply of the metal will be de- 
rived from this source. 

The existence of native copper on tho 
shores of Lake Superior, is noticed in the 
reports of the Jesuit missionaries of 1659 
and 1666. Pieces of the metal 10 to 20 lbs. 
in weight were seen, which it is said the 
Indians reverenced as sacred ; similar reports 
were brought by Father Dablou in 1G70, and 
by Charlevoix in 1744. An attempt was 
made in 1771 by an Englishman, named 
Alexander Henry, to open a mine near the 
forks of the Ontonagon, on the bank of the 
river, where a large mass of the metal lay ex- 
posed. He had visited the region in 1763, 
and returned with a party prepared for more 
thoroughly exploring its resources. They, 
however, found no more copper besides the 
loose mass, which they were unable to re- 
move. They then went over to the north 
shore of the lake, but met witli no better 
success there. General Cass and Mr. H. R. 
Schoolcraft visited the region in 1819, and 
reported on the great mass upon the Onton- 
agon. Major Long, also, in 1823, bore wit- 
ness to the occurrence of the metal along 
the shores of the lake. The country, till 
the ratification of the treaty with the Chip- 
pewa Indians in 1842, was scarcely ever 
visited except by hunters and fur-traders, 
and was only accessible by a tedious voyage 
in canoes from Mackinaw. The fur com- 
panies discouraged, and could exclude from 
the territory, all explorers not going there 
under their auspices. Dr. Douglass Hough- 
ton, the state geologist of Michigan, in the 
territory of which these Indian lands were 
included, made the first scientific examina- 
tion of the country in 1841, and his reports 
first drew public attention to its great re- 
sources in copper. His explorations were 
continued both under the state and general 
government until they were suddenly termi- 
nated with his life by the unfortunate swamp- 
ing of his boat in the lake, near Eagle river, 
October 13, 1845. 

In 1844 adventurers from the eastern states 
began to pour into the country, and mining 
operations were commenced at various places 
near the shore, on Keweenaw I'oint. The 
companies took possession under permits 
from the general land office, in anticipation 
of the regular surveys, when the tracts could 
be properly designated for sale. Nearly 
one thousand tracts, of one mile square each, 
were selected — the greater part of them at 
random-, and afterward explored and aban- 



62 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



doned. In 1846 a geological survey of the 
region was authorized by Congress, which 
was commenced under Dr. C. T. Jackson, 
and completed by Messrs. Foster and Whit- 
ney in 1850. At this time many mines were 
in full operation, and titles to them had been 
acquired at the government sales. 

The copper region, as indicated by Dr. 
Houghton, was found to be nearly limited to 
the range of trap hills, which are traced from 
the termination of Keweenaw Point toward 
the south-west in a belt of not more than two 
miles in width, gradually receding from the 
lake shore. The upper portion of the hills 
is of trap rock, lying in beds which dip to- 
ward the lake, and pass in this direction 
under others of sandstone, the outcrop of 
which is along the northern flanks of the 
hills. Isle Royale, near the north shore of 
the lake, is made up of similar formations, 
which dip toward the south. These rocks 
thus appear to form the basin in wliich the 
portion of Lake Superior lying between is 
held. The trap hills are traced from Kewee- 
naw Point in two or three parallel ridges of 
500 to 1,000 feet elevation, crossing Portage 
lake not far from the shore of Lake Superior, 
and the Ontonagon river about 1 3 miles from 
its mouth. They thence reach further back 
into the country beyond Agogebic lake, full 
120 miles from the north-eastern termina- 
tion. Another group of trap hills, known as 
the Porcupine mountains, comes out to the 
lake shore some 20 miles above the mouth 
of the Ontonagon, and this also contains 
veins of copper, which have been little de- 
veloped until the explorations commenced 
near Carp lake in these mountains in 1859. 
These have resulted in a shipment of over 20 
tons of roiigh copper in 1860, and give en- 
couragement to this proving a copper-pro- 
ducing district. The formations upon Isle 
Royale, which is within the boundary of the 
United States, although they are similar to 
those of the south shore, and contain copper 
veins upon Avhich explorations were vigor- 
ously prosecuted, have not proved of impor- 
tance, and no mines are now worked there. 
The productive mines are comprised in three 
districts along the main range of the trap 
hills. The first is on Keweenaw Point, the 
second about Portage lake, and the third 
near the Ontonagon river. All the veins 
are remarkable for producing native copper 
alone, the only ores of the metal being 
chiefly of vitreous copper found in a range 
of hills on the south side of Keweenaw Point, 



and nowhere in quantities to justify the con- 
tinuation of mining operations that were 
commenced upon them. The veins on Ke- 
weenaw Point cross the ridges nearly at right 
angles, penetrating almost vertically through 
the trap and the sandstones. Their produc- 
tiveness is, for the most part, limited to cer- 
tain amygdaloidal belts of the trap, which 
alternate with other unproductive beds of 
gray compact trap, and the mining explora- 
tions follow the former down their slope of 
40°, more or less, toward the north. The 
thickness of the veins is very vai'iable, and 
also their richness, even in the amygdaloid. 
The copper is found interspersed in pieces 
of all sizes through the quartz vein stones 
and among the calcareous spar, laumonite, 
prehnite, and other minerals associated with 
the quartz. These being extracted, piles are 
made of the poorer sorts, in which the metal 
is not sufficiently clear of stone for shipment, 
and these are roasted by firing the wood in- 
termixed through the heaps. By this proc- 
ess the stone entangled among the copper 
is more readily broken and removed. The 
lumps that will go into barrels are called 
" barrel work," and are packed in this way 
for shipment. Larger ones, called " masses," 
some of which are huge, irregular-shaped 
blocks of clean copper, are cut into pieces 
that can be conveniently transported, as of 
one to three tons weight each. This is done 
by means of a long chisel with a bit three- 
fourths of an inch wide, which is held by one 
man and struck in turns by two others with 
a hammer weighing 7 or 8 lbs. A groove is 
thus cut across the narrowest part of the 
mass, turning out long chips of copper one- 
fourth of an inch thick, and with each suc- 
ceeding cut the groove is deepened to the 
same extent until it reaches through the mass. 
The process is slow and tedious, a single cut 
sometimes occupying the continual labor of 
three men for as many weeks, or even long- 
er. This work is done in great part be- 
fore the masses can be got out of the 
mine. The masses are found in working the 
vein, often occupying the whole space be- 
tween the walls of trap rock, standing up- 
on their edges, and shut in as solidly as if 
all were one material. To remove one of tlie 
very large masses is a work of many months. 
It is first laid bare along one side by extend- 
ing the level or drift of the mine throuirh 
the trap rock. The excavation is carried 
high enough to expose its upper edge and 
down to its lower line ; but on account of ir- 



53 



regular shape and projecting arms of copper, 
which often stretch forward, and up and down, 
connecting with other masses, it requires long 
and tedious mining operations to determine 
its dimensions. When it is supposed to 
he nearly freed along one side, very heavy 
charges of powder arc introduced in the rock 
behind the mass, with the view of starting 
it from its bed. When cracks arc produced 
by these, heavier charges are introduced in 
the form of sand-blasts, and these are re- 
peated until the mass is thrown partly over on 
its side as w'cU as the space excavated will 
admit. In speaking further of the Minesota 
mine, the enormous sizes of some of the 
masses, and the amount of powder consumed 
in loosening them, will be more particularly 
noticed. 

To separate the finer particles of copper 
from the stones in which they are contained, 
these, after being roasted, are crushed under 
heavy stamps to the condition of fine sand, 
and this is then washed after the usual 
method of washing fine ores, until the eartliy 
matters are removed and the metallic par- 
ticles are left behind. This is shovelled into 
small casks for shipment, and is known as 
stamp copper. The stamping and crushing 
machinery, such as have long been used at 
the mining establishments of other countries, 
were found to be entirely too slow for the 
requirements of these mines, and they have 
been replaced by new apparatus of Amer- 
ican contrivance, which is far more efiicient 
than any thing of the kind ever before ap- 
plied to such operations. The stamps here- 
tofore in use have been of 100 lbs. to 300 lbs. 
"weight, and at the California mines were first 
introduced of 800 lbs. to 1,000 lbs. weight. 
At Lake Superior they are in use on the plan 
of the steam hammer, weighing, with the rod 
or stamp-leg, 2,500 lbs. and making 90 to 
100 strokes in a minute. The capacity of 
each stamp is to crush over one ton of hard 
trap rock every hour. It falls upon a large 
mortar that rests upon springs of vulcanized 
rubber, and the force of its fall is increased 
by the pressure of steam applied above the 
piston to throw it more suddenly down. The 
stamp-head covers about one-iburth of the 
fare of the mortar, and with every succeed- 
ing stroke it moves to the adjoining quarter, 
covering the whole face in four strokes. 

The only other metal found with the cop- 
per is silver, and this does not occur as an 
alloy, but the two are as if welded together, 
and neither, when assayed, gives more than 



a trace of the other. It is evident from this 
that they cannot have been in a fused state 
in contact. The quantity of silver is small ; 
the largest piece ever found weighing a little 
more than 8 lbs. troy. This was met with 
at the mines near the mouth of Eagle river, 
where a considerable number of loose pieces, 
together with loose masses of copper, were 
obtained in exploring deep under the bed of 
the stream an ancient deposit of rounded 
boulders of sandstone and trap. The veins 
of even the trap rocks themselves of this lo- 
cality exhibited so much silver that in the 
early operations of tlie inines a very liigh 
value was set upon them on this account. 
But at none of the Lake Superior mines has 
the silver collected paid the proprietors for 
the loss it has occasioned by distracting the 
attention of the miners, and leading them to 
seek for it with the purpose of approj)riating 
it to their own use. Probably they have car- 
ried away much the greater part of this 
metal ; at least until the stamp mills were in 
operation. 

The principal mine of this district is the 
CliiT mine of the Pittsburg and Boston Com- 
pany, opened in 1 845, and steadily worked ever 
since. In 1858 the extent of the horizontal 
workings on the vein had amounted to 
12,368 feet, besides 831 feet in cross-cuts. 
Five shafts had been sunk, one of which was 
817 feet deep, 587 feet being below the adit 
level, and 230 feet being from this level to the 
summit of the ridge. The shaft of least 
depth was sunk 422 feet. 

The production of the mine from the year 
1853 is exhibited in the following table: — 

Price per lb. 

Mineral Eefined Yield deducting Value 

Year, produced. copper, per cent, cost of realized. 

lbs. U>s. smelting. 

1853, 2,26:^,182 1,071,288 47.33 ct8.27.3i $292,fi47 05 

1S54, 2,332,f)14 1,3I5,30S 56.-35 L4.38 320,783 01 

1855, 2,995,837 1,874,197 C2.56 25 33 475,911 20 

l.S,5fi, 3,291,239 2,220,934 67.48 24.12 535,843 67 

1857, 8,3(;.S,55Y 2,362.8,=i0 70.28 20.44 497,870 47 

1858, 8,183,085 2,331,964 71.00 21.03 475.321 89 

1859, 2,i;»,632 1,415,007 64.35 20.50 290,097 97 
1860 2,805,442 

22,374,.5ss .. .] ' 

Product fro,,, accu- ) .^^^^ exclnsive of slags, 
niiilated slags. ...)'' " 

The quantities of the different sorts for 
the year 1857 are as follows: — 

941 masses 1,9.';S,181 lbs. 

8C9 bbls. of barrel work 61.3,781 " 

1,020 " ofstainpings 791,045" 

Total 3,303,557 " 

The Portage lake mining district is from 
twenty to twenty-five miles west from tho 



B4 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



Clift' mine on the same range of hills. This 
region is of more recent deyelopment, the 
explorations having been attended with little 
success previous to 1854. The veins are 
here found productive in a gray variety of 
trap as well as the amygdaloidal, and instead 
of lying across the ridges, follow the same 
course with them, and dip in general with 
the slope of the strata. Some of the larger 
veins consist in great part of epidote, and 
the copper in these is much less dense 
than in the quartz veins, forming tangled 
masses which are rarely of any considerable 
size. On the eastern side of this lake are 
worked, among other mines, the Quincy, 
Pewabic, and Franklin, and on the opposite 
side the Isle Koyale, Portage, and Columbian 
mines. The most successful of these has 
been the Pewabic. Operations were com- 
menced here in 1855 upon an unimproved 
tract, requiring the construction of roads and 
buildings, clearing of land, etc. etc., all in- 
volving for several years a continued heavy 
outlay. The immediate and rapid produc- 
tion of the mine required the construction of 
costly mills, without which a large propor- 
tion of the copper would be unavailable for 
the market. The first three years the as- 
sessments were $50,000, and the shipments 
of barrel and mass copper were in 1856 
GT^VA tons; in 1857, 209^3_2_9_ tons; in 

1858, 402 tons; in 1859, 8183^/0 tons. The 
proceeds from the sales up to this time paid 
off all the expenditures, and left besides a 
considerable surplus. The Franklin Com- 
pany, working the same lode upon the ad- 
joining location, commenced operations in 
July, 1857, and that year shipped 20 tons 
of copper, the next year 110 tons, and in 

1859, 218 tons; the total amount in capital 
furnished by assessments was ^1 0,000. These 
two mines have been the most rapidly de- 
veloped of any of the Lake Superior mines. 

The Ontonagon river crosses the trap hills 
about forty miles south-west from Portage 
lake, and the mines worked in the Onton- 
agon district are scattered along the hills 
north-east from the river for a distance of 
nearly twenty miles. The outlet for the 
greater number of them is by a road through 
the woods to the village at the mouth of the 
river. The veins of this district also lie 
along the course of the ridges, and dip with 
the trap rocks toward the lake. As they 
are worked, however, they are found occa- 
sionally to cut across the strata, and neighbor- 
ing veins to run into each other. In some 



places copper occurs in masses scattered 
through the trap rock with no sign of a 
vein, not even a seam or crevice connecting 
one mass with another. They appear, how- 
ever, to be ranged on the general course of 
the strata. At the Adventure mine they 
were so abundant, that it has been found 
profitable to collect them, and the cliffs of 
the trap rock present a curious appearance, 
studded over with numerous dark cavities in 
apparently inaccessible places leading into 
the solid face of the mountain. 

The great mine of this district for fifteen 
years was the Minnesota, two miles east from 
the Ontonagon river. The explorers in this 
region in the winter of 1847-48, found par- 
allel lines of trenches, extending along the 
trap hills, evidently made by man at some 
distant period. They were so well mark- 
ed, as to be noticed even under a cover of 
three feet depth of snow. On examination 
they proved to be on the course of veins 
of coppei', and the excavations were found 
to extend down into the solid rock, por- 
tions of which were sometimes left standing 
over the workings. When these pits were 
afterward explored, there were found in 
them large quantities of rude hammers, made 
of the hardest kind of greenstone, from the 
trap rocks of the neighborhood. These 
were of all sizes, ranging from four to forty 
pounds Aveight, and of the same general 
shape — one end being rounded off for the 
end of the hammer, and the other shaped 
like a wedge. Around the middle was a 
groove — the large hammers had two — evi- 
dently intended for securing the handle by 




8TONK UAMHBB. 



which they were wielded. In every instance 
the hammers were more or less broken, evi- 



COPPER. 



55 



deutly in service. One of them brouglit from 
the mine by the writer, and now in the col- 
lection of the Cooper Union of New York, 
is represented in the accompanying sketch. 
It measures 6^ inches in length, the same in 
breadth, and 2i inches in tliickness. 

The quantity of hammers found in these 
old workings was so great that they were col- 
lected by cart-loads. How they could have 
been made with such tools as the ancient 
miners had, is una(x*ountat)lc, for the stone 
itself is the hardest material they could find. 
And it is not any more clear, how they ap- 
plied such clumsy tools to excavating solid 
rock nearly as hard as the hammers them- 
selves. Every hammer is broken on the 
edge, as if worn out in service. The only 
tools found besides these were a copper gad 
or wedge, a copper chisel with a socket head, 
and a wooden bowl. The great extent of 
the ancient mining operations indicates that 
the country must have been long occupied 
by an industrious people, possessed of more 
mechanical skill tlian the present race of In- 
dians. They must also have spread over the 
whole of the copper region, for similar evi- 
dences of their occupancy are found about 
all the copper mines, and even upon Isle 
Koyale. It is not improbable that they be- 
longed to the race of the mound builders of 
the western states, among the vestiges of 
whom, found in the mounds, various utensils 
of copper have been met with. But of the 
period when they lived, the copper mines 
afford no more evidence than the mounds. 
Some of the trenches at the Minesota mine, 
originally excavated to the depth of more 
than twenty-five feet, have since filled up 
with gravel and rubbish to within a few 
feet of the surface, a work which in this 
region would seem to require centuries ; and 
upon the surface of this material large trees 
are now standing, and stumps of much older 
ones are seen, that have long been rotting. 
In clearing out the pits a mass of copper 
was discovered, l)uried in the gravel nearly 
twenty feet below the surface, which the an- 
cients had entirely separated from the vein. 
They had supported it upon blocks of wood, 
and, probably by means of fire and their 
hammers, had removed from itall the adhering 
stone and project ini; points of copper. Under 
it were quantities of ashes and charred wood. 
The weight of the mass, after all their at- 
tempts to reduce it, appears to have been 
too great for them to raise ; and when it was 
finally taken out in 1848, it was found to 
4* 



weigh over six tons. It was about ten feet 
long, three feet wide, and nearly two feet 
thick. Beneath this spot the vein after- 
ward proved extremely rich, affording many 
masses of great size. 

The veins worked by the Minesota Com- 
pany all lie along the southern slope of the 
northern trap ridge, not far below the sum- 
mit. Three veins have been discovered which 
lie nearly parallel to each other. The lowest 
one is along the contact of the gray trap of 
the upper part of the hill and a stratum of 
conglomerate wliich underlies this. It dips 
with the slope of this rock toward the north- 
north-west at an angle of about 40° with the 
horizon. The next upper vein outcropping, 80 
or 90 feet further up the hill, dips about 61", 
and falls into the lower vein along a very 
irregular line. Both veins are worked, and 
the greatest yield of the mine has been near 
their line of meeting. 

The position of the veins along the range 
of the rocks, instead of across them, gives to 
the mines of this character a great advantage, 
as their productiveness is not limited to the 
thickness of any one belt which proves favor- 
able for the occurrence of the metal ; and 
the outcrop of the vein can be traced a great 
distance along the surface, affording conve- 
nient opportunities for sinking directly upon 
it at any point. 

The Minnesota Company, having abund- 
ant room, were soon able to sink a lai-ge 
number of shafts along a line of outcrop 
of 1,800 feet, and several of the levels be- 
low extended considerably further than this 
entire length. In 1858 nine shafts were 
in operation, and ten levels were driven on 
the vehi, the deepest at 536 feet down the 
slope. The ten fathom level at that time 
was 1,9 GO feet in length. This mine has 
been remarkable for the large size and great 
number of its masses. The largest one of 
these, taken out during the year 1857, after 
being uncovered along its side, refused to 
give way, though 1,450 pounds of powder 
had been exploded behind it in five succes- 
sive sand-blasts. A charge of 025 pounds 
being then fired beneath it, the mass was so 
nmch loosened that by a succeeding blast of 
750 pounds it was torn off from the masses 
with which it connected, and thrown over 
in one immense piece. It measured forty- 
five feet in length, and its greatest thickness 
was over eight feet. Its weight was estima- 
ted at about 500 tons. AVhat it proved to 
be is not certain, as no account was preserved 



!56 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



of the pieces into which it was cut, but it is 
known to have exceeded 400 tons. Other 
masses have been taken out which presented 
a thickness of over five feet solid copper. 
The value of the silver picked out from 



among the copper has amounted in one year 
to about $1,000. 

The reports of the company present the 
following statistics of the mine from its 
earliest operations: — 









Mineral 




Years. 


No.of men 
employed. 


Expenditure. 


product. Per- 
Tons. 


centag 


1848, 


20 


$14,000 


6i 




1849, 


60 


28.000 


52 




1850, 


90 


58,000 


103 


, . 


1851, 


175 


88,000 


307^ 




1852, 


212 


108,000 


520 




1853, 


280 


168,000 


523 




1854, 


392 


218,000 


763 




1855, 


471 


280,933 


1,434 


71 


1856, 


537 


356.541 


1.859 


72.5 


1857, 


615 


402,538 


2,058 


74 


1858, 


713 


384,827 


1,833 


70.1 


1859, 


718 


384,394 


1,626 


71 


1860, 


( 8 months to Sept. 1 


.. 1,431 




( Estimate, 


for the year. . 


. . 2,250 





Value of 


Assessments 


Dividends. 


Copper. 


paid. 




$1,700 


$10,500 




14,000 


16,500 




29,000 


36,000 




90,000 


3,000 




196,000 




$30,000 


210,000 




60,000 


290,000 




90,000 


649,876 




200,000 


701,906 




300,000 


736,000 




300,000 


595,000 




180,000 


515,786 




120,000 



In consequence of recent discoveries of 
masses of copper running into the sandstone 
otF from the vein itself, the product of the 
year 1860 will considerably exceed that of 
any other year ; the profits, however, are not 
proportionally large, owing to the low price 
of copper. To this the diminished prof- 
its of 1858 and 1859 are partly to be attrib- 
uted. The product for 1857, 1858, and 
1859 was divided as follows : — 



Tears. 

1857, 

1858, 
1859, 



Masses, 
lbs. 

3,015,581 
2,429,989 
2,040,454 



Barrel worlc. 
lbs. 

819,900 
903,871 
929,571 



Stamp work, 
lbs. 

280,512 
333,352 
282,092 



Besides the dividends named, the original 
stockholders have derived large profits from 
the sale of portions of the extensive terri- 
tory, three miles square, which belonged to 
the company, and the organization upon 
these tracts of new companies. 

Before the completion of the St. Mary's 
Canal, no exact records were preserved of 
the amount of copper sent from Lake Su- 
perior. But up to the close of navigation in 
1854 it is supposed the total shipments from 
the commencement of mining in 1845 had 
been about 7642 tons of pure copper. 

Since that time, the annual product of 
rough copper has been as follows : — 



Districts. ^85.^ 

Keweenaw 2,245 

Portage 315 

Ontonagon 1,984 

Porcupine, Mo., etc 

Total 4,544 



1856. 
2,128 
462 
2,767 



5,357 



1857. 

2,200 

704 

3,190 



6,094 



1858. 
2,125 
1,116 
2,655 



1S59. 
1,910.3 
1,533.1 
2,597.6 



1860. 

1,910.8 

3,064.8 

3,588.7 

28.1 



5,896 6,041.0 8,543.4 



'" The condition of the Lake Superior mines ] 
at the close of the year 1860 is well pre- 
sented in the business circular of Messrs. 
Dupee, Beck, & Sayles, of Boston, received 
since the preceding pages passed through 
the hands of the printer and stereotyper. 
From this we introduce the following ad- 
ditional matter. The depreciation in the 
price of copper from a maximum of 29^ 
cents a pound of the few preceding years to 
a maximum of 24^ cents and a minimum of 
19 cents, had induced increased economy 
and care in the administration of the mines, 
the good effects of which were already be- 
ginning to be experienced : — 



"Freights to and from the mines from 
May to September were 25 per cent, less 
than in 1859. The transportation of a ton 
of copper from the lake shore to Boston, 
cost, after the opening of St. Mary's Canal, 
1855, $20; in 1860, to Boston, ^11, and to 
New York, $9. The substitution of bitu- 
minous coal for wood, which has been de- 
livered during the past summer at the 
wharves of Portage Lake for $3.25 per ton, 
will save much money and leave the forests 
of the country for building materials and 
for timbering of the mines. With the wants 
of a rapidly increasing population, new and 
cheaper sources of supply are constantly 



57 



opening in the region itself. Many agricul- 
tural j)rt>duct8, liitlicrto sent up at great cost 
from Lower Michigan, are now raised in the 
neighborhood of tlie mines, and at the new 
settlements on the south-western shores of 
the lake, cheaply and abundantly. At 
I'ortage Lake, a machine shop, an iron 
foundry, and a manufactory of doors, sash- 
es, blinds, etc., liavc been put in operation 
during 1800. The smelting works of the 
I'ortage Lake Company are now success- 
fully refining the products of that district. 
These works consist of four reverberatory and 
two cupola furnaces, capable of refining 6000 
tons per annum. The buildings are of the 
most thorough and substantial character, 
and the location of the works accessible, at 
a very small cost of transportation, to all the 
mines now wrought, or likely to be wrought 
for many years hence, in that neighbor- 
hood. Hitherto, to save cost of transporta- 
tion to the smelting companies in other 
states, it has been necessary to dress the 
rough copper to an average probably of 7o 
per cent. Now, by the proximity of the 
furnaces to the mines, a dressing of 50 per 
cent, will answer the same purpose, while 
the refined copper, hitherto rarely ready for 
the market before the 1st to ISth July, will 
be sent directly from the lake to New 
York or Boston, arriving there in ordinary 
seasons by the 1st of June. Furtlier, there 
will be added the new facility of obtaining 
cash advances through the winter on the 
warehouse receipts of the smelting company. 
" The opening of the entry into Portage 
Lake during the past season has been one of 
the greatest improvements in the navigation 
of the Lake Superior region since the com- 
pletion of the ship canal around the falls of 
St. Mary's river. At the comparatively 
small cost of $50,000, steamers of the larg- 
est class able to pass through the St. Mary's 
Canal may now enter Portage Lake, and dis- 
charge their cargoes at the docks of the sever- 
al companies located on its shores. Besides 
avoiding the loss of time and expense of tran- 
shipment hitherto necessary, the opening of 
Portage Lake lias provided one of the most 
capacious and safest harbors in the world. 

*' In the Ontonagon district, a plank road 
has been completed recently, facilitating to 
a very great extent the transportation to 
and from the Minesota, National, Rock- 
land, and Superior mines. 

"The iron interests of Lake Superior are 
rapidly attaining great importance. The 



amount brought down to Marquette, the 
port of shipment, in 1860, was : of iron ore 
from the Jackson Company, 6-J,980 tons ; 
Cleveland Company, 47,889 ; Lake Superior 
Company, 39,394 ; total, 150,2«>3. Of pig 
iron. Pioneer Company, 3050 tons; S. U. 
Gay, ISuO; Northern Company, 650; total, 
6500. Ore valued at $3 ; pig at $-25 ; ag- 
gregate value, $588,289." 

The following statistics are presented of 
the principal mines : — 

COMI'AKATIVK TABLK OF SHIPMENTS OF nOIIGH COPPKR 
KKOM I.AKB SUPERIOR DUKINO TUK SKA80NS OF IS.'i'J 
AM) IStk). 

Tlie weiphts of the barrels have been deducted, and tho 
results are given in tons ('2000 lbs.) and tenths. 

KEWEENAW UISTKICT. 

1859. 1860. 

Central 172.3 78.6 

Clark 5.6 7.2 

Connecticut 24. 5.3 

Copper Falls 329.4 328. 

I'^rtgie River 6. 

Nortli American 8.7 

Northwest 73.8 103.5 

[^hojnix 32. 31.2 

I'iUsburg and Boston 1,254.5 1,357. 

Suriimit 4. 

1,910.3 1,910.8 

PORTAGE DISTRICT. 

C.C.Douglass 24. 

Isle Royale 241.3 458.6 

Franklin 204.7 267. 

Hancock 7.2 

Huron 7.4 78. 

Mesnard .6 

Pewabic 734.4 1,363.8 

Portage 8.7 

Quincy 336. 866.2 

1,533.1 3,064.8 

ONTONAGON DISTRICT. 

Adventure 139,4 29.7 

Aztec 15.3 4.9 

Bohemian 3. 

FA-ergreen Bluff 27. 41.9 

Hamilton .7 7.9 

Mass 12.3 

Minesota 1.623 6 2,183.4 

National .' . . 323.2 727.8 

Nebraska 9.8 26.4 

Norwich 22. 

Ogima 35.4 

Ridge 27.8 

Rockland 347. 552.7 

.Superior 1.7 14. 

Toltec 9.4 

2,597.6 3,588 7 

Keweenaw District 1,910.3 1,910.8 

Portage 1,533.1 3,050 8 

Ontonagon 2,597.6 3,553.7 

Porcupine Mountain 20.5 

Sundry mines "f ■'» 

6,041.0 8,543.4 



58 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



Franklin : the product for the year end- 
ing November 30 has been 112 masses, 
weighing 72,166 lbs. ; 721 barrels of barrel 
work, 469,116 lbs.; and 67 barrels stamp 
work, 63,816 lbs. Total, 6u5,098 lbs., 
equal to 180y\ tons refined copper. The 
actual shipments wore about 2G7 tons rough, 
or 158 tons ingot copper. The stamps are 
Ball's, consisting of two pairs of two heads 
each. They did not commence work till 
November 19. 

Huron : total shipments this year, Q^j^ 
tons of 64i per cent, barrel work, and 12,- 
311 lbs. of refined copper, smelted at the 
Portage Lake works. There is ready for 
the stamps an amount equivalent, at a fair 
estimate, to the quantity shipped this sea- 
son. 

Isle Royale : total shipments this season 
458/„ tons, averaging over 70 per cent. 
Preparations have been made for opening a 
large amount of ground during the winter, 
with a view to large shipments at the open- 
ing of navigation. 

Minesota: November returns, 150 tons. 
The total shipments in 1860 were 1992 
masses, and 2127 barrels of ban-el and 
stamp work. Net weight, 4,366,718 lbs. 
This is the largest shipment made in one 
year by any mine at the lake. The promise 
for future production is as great, at least, as 
the result for this year. 

Pewabic : November product, 304y8Q tons. 
The actual shipments for the season have 
been 2,727,632 lbs. The product for one 
year to November 30 was as follows: 467 
masses, weighing 348,658 lbs. ; 2294 bar- 
rels kiln or barrel work, weighing net, 
1,450,778 lbs.; 342 barrels No. 1, stamp, 
379,718 lbs.; 399 barrels No. 2, stamp, 
389,973 lbs.; 401 barrels No. 3, stamp, 
346,912 lbs.; add on tributers' account, 
27,428. Total, 2,943,467 lbs. 

The smelting returns are not yet all made, 
but on an estimate based on past experience, 
the result will not vary much from 2,030,- 
992 lbs., or about lOOO tons of ingot cop- 
per. 

During the year there liave been shipped 
1533 ounces of silver. 

Pittsburg and Boston ; November prod- 
uct, 114 tons. Total shipments, 1357 tons. 
Total product for the year, 1402 tons. The 
annual report recently published gives the 
result of the year ending December 1, 1859. 
The product for that year was l,09r»-jS_. tons, 
yielding 64yVo P^^' cent., or 7o7/^ tons in- 



got copper. The receipts, including $2,- 
405 17 from sales of silver, were $292,- 
503 14. The expenditures were $272,- 
175 75, leaving net profit, $20,327 39. 

COPPER SMELTING 

The ores of copper, unlike those of most 
of the other metals, are not in general re- 
duced at the mines ; but after being concen- 
trated by mechanical processes called dress- 
ing — which consist in assorting the piles ac- 
cording to their qualities, and crushing, jig- 
ging, and otherwise wasliing the poorer sorts 
— they are sold to the smelters, whose estab- 
lishments may be at great distances off, even 
on the other side of the globe. The richer 
ores, worth per ton three or four times as 
many dollars as the figures that represent 
their percentage of metal, well repay the 
cost of transportation, and are conveniently 
reduced at smelting works situated on the 
coast near the markets for copper, and where 
the fuel required for their reduction is cheap. 
At Swansea, in South Wales, there are eight 
great smelting establishments, to which all 
the ores from Cornwall and Devon are car- 
ried, and which receive other ores from al- 
most all parts of the world. It is stated that 
in this district there are nearly 600 furnaces 
employed, which consume about 500,000 
tons of coal per annum, and give employ- 
ment to about 4,000 persons besides colliers. 
The amount of copper they supply is more 
than half of that consumed by all nations. 
The total product of fine copper produced 
by all the smelting establishments of Great 
Britain for 1857 is stated to be 18,238 tons, 
worth £2,079,323. 

The copper smelting works of the United 
States are those upon the coast, depending 
chiefly upon foreign supplies of ores, and 
those of the interior for melting and refining 
the Lake Superior copper. There are also 
the furnaces at the Tennessee mines, which 
have been already noticed. The former are 
situated at the following localities: At 
Point Shirley, in Boston harbor, are the 
•furnaces of the Kevere Copper Company, 
which also has rolling mills and other Avorks 
connected with the manufacture of copper 
at Canton, on the Boston and Providence 
railroad. At Taunton, IMass., a similar estab- 
lishment to that at Canton is owned by the 
Messrs. Crocker, of that town. There are 
smelting furnaces at Now Haven, Conn. ; at 
Bergen Point, in New York harbor ; and at 
Baltimore, on a point in the outer harbor. 



COPPER. 



59 



The furnaces established for workinj? the 
Lake Superior copper are at Detroit, Cleve- 
land, and Pittsburg. At the last named 
are two separate establishments, with each 
of which is connected a n)irmg mill, at 
which the ingot copper is converted into 
sheets for home consumption and the eastern 
market. A furnace was also built at Port- 
age lake, Lake Superior, in 1860, of capacity 
equal to melting 6000 tons of copper annu- 
allv. The details and extent of the opera- 
tions carried on by the smelting works ap- 
pear to have been carefully kept from publi- 
cation. In a work on " Copper and Copper 
Smelting," by A. Snowdon Piggott, M. D., 
who had charge of the chemical assays, etc., 
for the Baltimore Company, published in 
1858, while the English processes are fully 
described, no information is given as to the 
methods adopted at the American works ; 
and of their production all the information 
is contained in the two closing sentences of 
the appendix, as follows : " Of the copper- 
smelting establishments of the United States 
I liave no statistics. IJaltimore turns out 
about 8,000,000 pounds of refined copper 
annually." Applications which have been 
made by the writer to the proprietors of 
several of the establishments for information 
as to the business, have been entirely unsuc- 
cessful. The total production of copper in 
1858 was supposed to be about 13,000 tons 
per annum ; and of this about 7 000 tons 
were required by the rolling mills for mak- 
ing sheet copper, sheet brass, and yellow 
metal. 

The French treatise on Metallurgy by 
Professor Rivot contains the only published 
description of the American method of 
smelting copper. By the English process, 
the separation of the metal from its ores is 
a long and tedious series of alternate roast- 
ings or calcinations, and fusions in rever- 
V)oratory furnaces. The system is particu- 
larly applicable to the treatment of poor, 
sulphurous ores contaminated with other 
metals, as iron, arsenic, etc., and can only be 
conducted to advantage where fuel is very 
cheap, the consumption of this being at the 
rate of about 20 tons to the ton of copper 
obtained. The process employed in Ger- 
many is much more simple, and the methods 
in use at the American smelting works are 
more upon the plan of these. Blast or cu- 
pola furnaces supply at some of them the 
place of reverberatories, and the separation 
of the metal is com{)leted in great part by 



one or two smeltings. The treatment of the 
Lake Superior copper is comparatively an 
easy operation. For this large rovcrberatory 
furnaces are employed, through the roof of 
which is an opening large enough to admit 
masses of 3 to 3* tons weight, which are 
raised by cranes and lowered into the fur- 
nace. The barrels of barrel work are intro- 
duced in the same way, and left in the fur- 
nace without unpacking. When the furnace 
is charged, the opening in the top is secure- 
ly closed by fire-proof masonry, and the fire 
of bituminous coal is started, the flame from 
which plays over the bridge, and, reflected 
from the roof, strikes upon the copper, caus- 
ing it gradually to sink down and at last 
flow in a liquid mass. A small portion of 
the copper by the oxidizing action of the 
heated gases is converted into a suboxide, 
which is partially reduced again, and in part 
goes into tlie slags in the condition of a 
silicate of copper, the metal of which is not 
entirely recovered. The mixture of quartz, 
calcareous spar, and epidote accompanying 
the copper, is sometimes such as to melt 
and form a good cinder without addition of 
any other substance, but usually some lime- 
stone or other suitable material is added as 
a flux. Complete fusion is effected in 12 to 
15 hours according to the size of the masses, 
and this is kept up for about an hour in 
order that the fine particles of copper may 
find their Avay through the fluid slag, which 
floats upon the metal. Working tools call- 
ed rabbles are then introduced through the 
side-doors of the furnace, and the charge is 
stirred up and the slag is drawn out through 
the door. It falls upon the ground, and is 
taken when sufliciently cool to the cupola or 
slag furnaces where it is chilled with water 
to render it easy to break up. Those por- 
tions which contain as much as one fourth 
per cent, of copper are reserved to be pass- 
ed through the slag furnace. The total 
amount of slag is usually less than 20 per 
cent, of the whole charge. In the melting 
the copper absorbs carbon, which if allow- 
ed to remain would render it brittle and 
unfit for use. To remove it the fire is so 
arranged that the gases pass through with 
much unconsumed air ; this playing on the 
surface of the copper produces a suboxide 
of the metal, which in the course of half an 
hour is quite taken up by the copper, and 
coming in contact with the particles of car- 
bon the oxvgen combines with this, and re- 
moves it in the form of carbonic acid gas. 



60 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THK UNITED STATES. 



It now remains to remove the excess of 
oxygen introduced, whicli is effected by the 
ordinary method of refining, A large proT 
portion of fuel is employed on the grate for 
the amount of air admitted through it, so 
that the flames as they pass over the bridge 
convey little free oxygen, and the surface of 
the metal is covered with fine charcoal. 
After a little time a pole of green wood is 
thrust into the melted copper and stirred 
about so long as gases escape from the sur- 
face. It is then taken out, and if on testing 
the copper some suboxide still remains, the 
refining is cautiously continued with char- 
coal, and just when, as appears by the tests, 
all the oxide is reduced, the work of dipping 
out the metal is commenced. This is done 
by large iron ladles, the whole set of men 
employed at two furnaces, to the number 
of about 12, coming to this work and tak- 
ing turns in the severe task. They protect 
themselves from the intense heat by wet 
cloths about their arms, and as quickly as 
possible bale out a ladle full of copper and 
empty it into one or more of the ingot 
moulds, of which 36 are arranged in front 
of the furnace-door upon three parallel bars 
over a trough of water. As the metal be- 
comes solid in each mould, this is upset, 
letting the ingot fall into the water. The 
weight of the ingot being 20 pounds, the 
filling of them all removes 720 pounds of 
copper from the furnace. The metal that 
remains is then tested, and according to its 
condition the discharging may be continued 
or it may be necessary to oxidize the copper 
again and repeat the refining, or merely to 
throw more charcoal upon the surface and 
increase the heat. The time required to 
ladle out the whole charge is from four to 
six hours. When this is t-ompleted the sole 
of the furnace is repaired, by stopping the 
cracks with sand and smoothing the surface 
to get all ready for the next charge ; and at 
the same time the second furnace has reach- 
ed the refining stage of the process. One 
charge to a furnace is made every evening, 
and as in the night it is necessary only to 
keep up the fires, the great labor of the proc- 
ess comes wholly in the day time. 

The following is the estimated cost at 
Detroit of the smelting, on a basis of two 
furnaces, each of which is charged with four 
and a half to five tons of mass copper, con- 
suming two and a half tons of coal, and pro- 
ducing from three to three and a half tons 
of ingots : — 



Labor, 15 hands, at $1.50 $22.50 

Bituminous coal, 5 tons, at $5 25.00 

Wood and charcoal 1.25 

Repairs to furnace, average for the season.. 2.00 

$50.75 

To this should be added, for superintend- 
ence, office, and general expenses, perhaps 
ten dollars more, which would make the 
cost for six or seven tons of ingot copper, 
$60.75, or $9 to $10 per ton." At Pitts- 
burg the rate charged has been $11 per ton; 
and fuel is there atlbrded at about one third 
the amount allowed in the above estimate. 

The cupola furnaces for treating the slags 
are of very simple plan and construction. 
They are of cylindrical form, about ten feet 
high, and three feet diameter inside. Their 
walls, the thickness of a single length of 
fire brick, are incased in boiler-plate iron, 
and stand upon a cast-iron ring, which is 
itself supported upon four cast iron columns 
about tliree feet above the ground. Trans- 
verse iron bars support a circular plate, and 
upon this the refractory sand for tlie sole of 
the furnace is placed, and well beaten down 
to the thickness of a foot, with a sharp slope 
toward the tapping hole. A low chimney 
conveys away the gaseous products of com- 
bustion, and through the base of it the 
workmen introduce the charges. The blast 
is introduced by three tuyeres a foot above 
the sole ; but before it enters the furnace it 
is heated bypassing through a channel around 
the furnace. A steady current is obtained by 
the use of three double acting blow ing cylin- 
ders, which give a pressure equal to about 
three and a half inches of mercury. 

The hands employed at the Detroit es- 
tablishment, besides the superintendent and 
head smelter, are eighteen furnace men and 
from five to ten workmen, according to the 
arrivals of copper during the season of navi- 
gation. After the stock thus received is 
worked up, the furnaces remain idle during 
the remainder of the winter. 

USEFUL APPLICATIONS OF COPPER. 

The uses of copper are so numerous and 
important that the metal must rank next in 
value to iron. In ancient times, indeed, it 
was the more useful metal of the two, being 
abundant among many nations to whom iron 
was not known. In the ancient Scandina- 
vian tumuli recently opened in Denmark, 
among the various implements of stone were 
found swords, daggers, and knives, the blades 
of which were, in some instances, of copper, 



61 



and in some of j;old, while the cutting edges 
were formed of iron, showing that this was 
more rare and vahiable than either copper or 
gold. It has hecn supposed that several of 
the ancient nations, as the Egyptians, Greeks, 
etc., possessed the art of hardening copper, 
so as to make it serve the purposes of steel. 
That they employed it for such uses as those 
to which we now apply tools of steel is cer- 
tain, and also that the specimens of some of 
their copper tools are considerably liarder 
than any we make of the same metal. These 
are found, on analysis, to contain about one 
part in ten of tin, which, it is known, in- 
creases, when added in small proportions, 
the hardness of copper, and this was prob- 
ably still further added to by hammering. 

Among the most important uses of the metal 
at present is that of sheathing the bottoms 
of ships in order to protect the timbers from 
the ravages of marine animals, and present a 
smooth surface for the easy passage of the 
vessel through the water. The metal is well 
adapted, from its softness and tenacity, for 
rolling into sheets, and these were first pre- 
pared for this use for the Alarm frigate of 
the royal navy, in 1761. Sheet lead had 
been in use before this time, but was soon 
after given up for copper. On account of 
the rapid deterioration of the copper by the 
action of the sea-water, the naval department 
of the I>ritish government applied, in 1823, 
to the Royal Society for some method of 
preserving the metal. This was furnished 
by Sir Humphry Davy, who recommend 
ed applying strips of cast iron under the 
copper sheets, which, by the galvanic cur- 
rent excited, would be corroded instead 
of the copper. The application answered 
the purpose intended, but soon had to be 
given up, for the copper, protected from 
chemical action, it was found, became cov- 
ered with barnacles and other shell-fish, so 
as seriously to impair the sailing qualities of 
the vessels, and ior this reason it has been 
found necessary to submit to the natural wast- 
ing of the metal, and replace the sheets as fast 
as they become corroded. 

Various alloys have been proposed as sub- 
stitutes for copper. That known as yellow 
metal, or Muntz's, has been the most success- 
ful and has been very generally introduced. 
It consists of copper alloyed with about 40 
per cent, of zinc, and is prepared by plung- 
ing cakes of zinc into a bath of melted cop- 
per contained in a reverberatory furnace. 
•fhe volatilization of the zinc and oxidation 



of the metals is guarded against by a cover- 
ing of fine charcoal kept upon the melted 
surface. The bolts, nails, and other fasten- 
ings for the sheathing, and for various other 
parts of the shi}», are made also of copper 
and of yellow metal ; and to secure the great- 
est strength, they should be cast at once in 
the forms in which they are to be used. 
The manufacture of all tliese articles is ex- 
tensively carried on at the different copper 
establishments in Massachusetts, Connecti- 
cut, and Baltimore. 

Sheet copper is also applied to many other 
very important uses, as for copper boilers 
and pipes, for large stills and condensers, 
the vacuum pans of sugar refineries, and a 
multitude of utensils for domestic purposes, 
and for em ploy meet in the different arts. 
For engraving upon it is prepared of the 
purest quality and of different thicknesses, ac- 
cording to the kind of engraving for which 
it is to be used. The engraver cuts it to the 
size he requires, planishes it,and gives to it the 
dead smooth surface peculiar to engraving 
plates. The smaller utensils of sheet copper, as 
urns, vases, etc., are very ingeniously hammer- 
ed out from a flat circular sheet. As the ham- 
mering is first applied to the central portion, 
this spreads and takes the form of a bowl. 
As the metal becomes harder and brittle by 
the operation, its softness and ductility are 
restored by annealing, a process that must 
often be repeated as the hammering is con- 
tinued, and toward the last, when tlie metal 
has become more susceptible to the change 
induced by the application of the hammer, 
the annealing must be very carefully attended 
to, and the whole process be conducted with 
much skill and judgment acquired by long 
experience. 

For larger and more common hollow ar- 
ticles, the sheet copper is folded around, and 
lapped by various sorts of joints, some of 
which are secured by rivets, and some by a 
double lap, the two edges locking into each 
other, and made close by hammering. The 
edges are also soldered either with soft 
or hard solder. For the latter an alloy is 
made for the purpose, by melting in a crucible 
a quantity of brass, and then stirring in one- 
half or one-third as much zinc, until the blue 
flame disappears. The mixture is then turn- 
ed out into a shallow pan, and when cold the 
plate is heated nearly red hot, and beaten 
on an anvil or in a mortar. This is the hard 
solder of the braziers. 

A still more important application of the 



62 



MINING INDUSTRT OF THE UNITED STATES 



copper is in the manufacture of the alloy 
known as brass ; and that called bronze also 
serves many useful purposes. The former is 
composed of copper and zinc, the latter of 
copper and tin. It is a curious fact in met- 
allurgy that brass was extensively manufac- 
tured, and used more commonly than any 
single metal or other alloy, many centuries 
before the existence of such a metal as zinc 
Avas known. It was prepared by melting 
copper and introducing fragments of the 
lapis calaminaris, an ore of zinc, in which 
the oxide of the metal is combined with car- 
bonic acid. Charcoal was also added to the 
mixture, and by the reaction with this the 
zinc ore was reduced to the metallic state, 
and at once united with the copper, without 
appearing as a distinct metal. This process 
is still in use for making brass, but the more 
common method is to introduce slips of 
copper into melted zinc, or to plunge beneath 
melted copper lumps of zinc held in iron 
tongs. The proportion of the two metals is 
always uncertain, owing to the unknown 
quantity of zinc that is consumed and es- 
capes in fumes. This is prevented as much 
as possible by covering the melted metal 
with fine charcoal, and by throwing in pieces 
of glass, which melt and cover the mixture 
with a thin protecting layer. Old brass is 
much used in making new, and the addition 
of quantities of this to the pot containingthe 
other ingredients, adds to the uncertainty of 
the composition. The best proportion of 
the two metals is believed to be two parts of 
copper to one of zinc, which is expressed by 
the term " eight-ounce brass," meaning eight 
ounces of zinc to sixteen of copper. Sixteen- 
ounce brass — the two metals being equal — 
is a beautiful golden yellow alloy called 
prince's metal. But all brass of more than 
ten ounces of zinc to the pound of copper is 
whitish, crystalline, hard, and brittle ; of less 
than ten ounces it is malleable, soft, and 
ductile. The alloys known as pinchbeck, 
Manheim gold, bath metal, etc., formerly 
much in use as imitations of gold, are about 
three to four ounce brass. 

Brass coml)ino3 a number of excellent 
qualities, which adapt it for many uses. Its 
compactness, durability, strength, and soft- 
ness, render it an excellent material for fine 
work, and nothing, except tin, perhaps, is bet- 
ter adapted for shapiig in the lathe. In use 
it is not liable to rust by exposure, is easily 
kept clean, and takes a jwlish almost as beau- 
tiful as that of gold. It is hence a favorite 



material for the works of watches and clocks, 
almost all sorts of instruments in which great 
hardness is not essential, and for various 
household utensils, and ornaments upon fur- 
niture. In thin plates it is stamped and em- 
bossed in figures, and is thus cheaply applied 
to many useful and ornamental purposes. 
Its ductility is such, that those sorts contain- 
ing little zinc are beaten out, as in Dutch 
gilding, like gold-leaf itself, so as to be used 
as a cheap substitute for this in gilding in 
some cases. It is also drawn out into wire, 
often of great fineness ; and of the suitable 
sizes of this there is a very large consumption 
in the manufacture of pins, and hooks and 
eyes. By ingenious machinery the brass 
wires are clipped to their proper length for 
pins, pointed, headed, and after being tinned, 
are stuck in paper, with very little atten- 
tion from the workmen. This manufacture 
serves to exemplify the perfection of machin- 
ery, and some of the most admirable of this, 
particularly that by which the finished pins 
are stuck in their papers, is a peculiarly 
American invention, and worth, to the manu- 
facturers at Waterbury aloue, many thousand 
dollars annually. The solid-headed pin, 
made somewhat after the manner in which 
cut nails are headed, was invented by two cit- 
izens of Rhode Island, Mr. Slocum and Mr. S. 
G. Reynolds. This was before the year 1840. 
The brass pins and hooks and eyes, are cov- 
ered with a coating of tin by placing them 
in a barrel, together with about twice their 
weight of tin in grains, several ounces of 
cream of tartar, and several gallons of warm 
water. The barrel is then made to revolve 
upon its axis, until the pins or other articles 
are perfectly clean. After this they are 
boiled in a similar mixture. 

Mufh of the brass of the ancients was 
properly bronze — that is, a compound of cop- 
per and tin. This alloy, in different propor- 
tions of its ingredients, is still of very great 
service. Gun metal — the material of the so- 
called brass cannon — is composed of copper 
96 to 108 parts, and tin 11 parts. The com- 
pound resists wear extremely well, but its 
strength is only about one-half that of 
wrought iron. Statues, and hard castings for 
i^achinery, are formed of this alloy. Messrs. 
Mitchell, Vance & Co., of New York, have 
been very successful in casting bronze statu- 
ettes and ornaments, clock cases, &c., which 
rival the antique bronze in beauty. One 
of the most noted foundries for the casting 
ot cannon, statues, and bronze ornaments in 



GOLD. 



63 



the United States is that of the Messrs. 
Ames, at C'liicoj)ee, INIass. The equestrian 
statue of Wasliiiifiion, in Union square, New 
York, is one of tlu'irmost successfiil produc- 
tions. The Frenrh bronze contains 2 parts 
of tin, 1 of load, G of zinc, and 91 of copper. 
Bell-motal i-s a bronze usually consisting of 
7 parts of copper and 22 of tin. The larg- 
est bell in the country, that formerly on 
the City Hall, in New York, weighs 23,000 
pounds, and was cast in Boston. The 
largest number of bells is probably pro- 
duced at the foijUidry of the Messrs. Men- 
eely, at Troy, N. Y. The Chinese gong is 
now an American manufacture, composed of 
bell-motal, which, after being cast, is forged 
under the hammer, between two di.-ks of 
iron. The casting is made malleable by 
plunging, while hot, into cold water. 

As with zinc, copper forms an alloy mnde 
to imitate gold, so with tin and nickel it forms 
a combination resembling silyer, known as 
German silver. The proportions of the met- 
als are H parts of copper to either 3 or 4 each 
of the two other metals. This is used in the 
mann'acture of spoons, forks, and other uten- 
sils, and instead of brass in various instru- 
ments. It is plated with silver, and is as 
beautiful as the genuine silver. 

Another alloy of copper and tin is the 
telescope or speculum metal, which consists 
of about one-third tin and two-thirds copper. 
It is of a steel-white color, very hard and 
brittle, and susceptible of a high polish, 
which is not soon tarnished, qualities that 
cause it to be used for the mirrors of tele- 
scopes. 

Copper is largely used in the coinage, pure 
in the cent, combined with nickel in the 
three and five cent pieces, and as an alloy in 
the silver and gold pieces. Copper is also 
in demand both for electro-plating purposes 
and for e'ectrotype plates, which have almost 
superseded the old stereotype plates. 

Among the later alloys of copper, is what 
is called oroide of gold, which in its best 
qualities consists of pure copper, 100 parts ; 
zinc or tin, 1 7 parts ; magnesia, 6 parts ; sal- 
ammonia, 0..5 parts ; quicklime, 0.1 2r) parts ; 
tartar of commerce, 9 parts. Ahiminium 
Bronze 00 parts copper and 10 of aluminium. 

There aie several alloys closely imitating 
silver in which copj)er is the largest constit- 
uent. One consists of 70 parts copper, 20 
nickel. .')| xinc, and A\ cadnium. Minargent 
consists of 100 parts copper, 70 nickel, 5 
tungsten, and 1 aluminium. 



CHAPTER III. 

GOLD. 

Although the discovery of gold mines 
was the chief motive that led to the settle- 
ment of the American continent, those of the 
United States appear to have escaped notice 
until the present century. The only excep- 
tion to this may be in the discovery made 
by some Europeans of the gold region of 
northern Georgia at a period long antece- 
dent to the occupation of this district by the 
whites. Of this fact no written record is 
preserved ; but in working the deposit mines 
of the Nacoochce valley, in Habersham coun- 
ty, there were discovered, about the year 
1842, various utensils and vestiges of huts, 
which evidently had been constructed by 
civilized men, and had been buried there 
several centuries. It is supposed they be- 
longed to De Soto's party, which passed 
through this region in the sixteenth century 
on their exploring expedition from Florida 
to the Mississippi river. The earlier his- 
torians hardly mention gold as even being 
supposed to exist in the colonies. Salmon, 
in the third volume of his "Modern His- 
tory," 1746, merely alludes to a gold mine 
in Virginia, which of late " had made much 
noise," but does not even name the locality, 
and evidently attaches no importance to it. 
In Jefferson's " Notes on Virginia " mention 
is made of the discovery of a piece of gold 
of 17 dwts. near the Rappahannock. In 
1799, as mentioned by Wheeler in his " His- 
tory of North Carolina," a son of Conrad 
Reed picked up a piece of gold as large as 
a small smoothing iron from the bed of a 
brook on his father's farm, in Cabarrus coun- 
ty, and its value not being known it was 
kept for several years in the house to hold 
the door open, and was then sold to a silver- 
smith for $3.50. In Drayton's " View of 
South Carolina," 1802, the metal is stated 
to have been found on Paris Mountain, in 
Greenville district. About this time it be- 
gan to be met with in considerable lumps in 
Cabarrus county, N. C, and not long after- 
ward in Montgomery and Anson counties. 
At Reed's mine, in Cabarrus, the discovery 
by a negro of a lump weighing 28 lbs. avoir- 
dupois, near the same stream already referred 
to, led to increased activity in exploring the 
gravelly deposits along the courses of the 
brooks and rivers of this region, and numer- 
ous new localities of the metal were rapidly 
discovered. A much larger proportion of 



64 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THK UNITKD STATES. 



gold was collected, during these earlier work- 
ings, in coarse lumps than in the operations 
of later times — pieces of metal of one to 
several pounds weight being often found. 
Before the year 1820, as stated in Bruce' s 
Mineralogical Jourmd (vol. i., p. 125), the 
quantity of American gold received at the 
mint at Philadelphia amounted to $43,689. 
All of this was from North Carolina. In 
1827 there had been received from the same 
source $110,000. But besides this amount, 
a considerable proportion of the gold prod- 
uct was consumed by jewellers, who paid a 
better price than was received from the mint, 
and was retained by the banks, in which it 
was deposited. It also circulated to some 
extent as a medium of exchange in the min- 
ing region, being carried about in quills, and 
received by the merchants usually at the rate 
of ninety cents a dwt. The total product 
of the mines must, therefore, have been 
much larger than appears from the mint re- 
turns. In 1829, Virginia and South Caro- 
lina began to appear as gold-producing states 
— there being deposited in the mint from 
the former gold to the value of $2,500, and 
from the latter of $3,500. The same year 
the rich gold deposits of northern Georgia 
were discovered, and suddenly became very 
productive, so that the receipts at the mint 
from this state for the year 1830 amounted 
to $212,000. Gold mining had now become 
an established branch of the productive in- 
dustry of the states, and as its importance 
increased, the necessity was felt of the estab- 
lishment of branch mints in the mining 
region. One was constructed by act of Con- 
gress at Dahlonega, Lumpkin county, Geor- 
gia, and another at Charlotte, Mecklenburg 
county, N. C. ; and both commenced coining 
gold in 1838. From the irregular manner 
in which the gold deposits were worked, and 
their uncertain yield, the annual production 
of the mines was very variable. In a single 
year the mint at Dahlonega received and 
coined gold to the value of $600,000 ; and 
until the discovery of the California gold 
mines, the American production was estima- 
ted to average annually about $100,000. It 
was, however, gradually declining in impor- 
tance from the year 1845 ; and of late years 
has dwindled away, so as not to amount to 
enough for the support of the branch mints, 
the abolition of which by act of Congress 
was generally looked for in 1857 and 1858. 
The late introduction at the mines of North 
Carolina and Georgia of the hydraulic and 



sluice washing, which has proved highly suc- 
cessful in California, gives encouragement 
that these mines may again soon became as 
productive as before. 

The rock formations of the United States, 
in which gold mines are worked, follow the 
range of the Appalachians, and are produc- 
tive chiefly along their eastern side in a belt 
of country sometimes attaining a width of 
75 miles, as along the southern part of North 
Carolina, and in Georgia in two distinct belts 
which are separated by a district of forma- 
tions unproductive in gold. The extreme 
northern gold mines on this range are in 
Canada East, upon the Chaudiere river and 
its tributaries, the Du Loup and the Touffe 
des Pins. In 1851 and 1852, deposits were 
worked upon these streams, and about 1,900 
dwts. were collected — found among the 
gravel which lay in the crevices formed by 
the ragged edges of the upturned argillaceous 
and talcose slates. The pieces were all small, 
only one weighing as much as 4 ounces. The 
returns were not sufficient to cover the out- 
lays, and the working was consequently 
abandoned. 

The next localities on the range toward 
the south which have furnished gold are in 
Vermont, on the western border of Wind- 
sor county, in the towns of Bridge water and 
Plymouth. At Newfane, in Windham county, 
a piece of gold was found in 1826, which 
weighed 8^ oz. ; but the only successful at- 
tempts to work the deposits were com- 
menced in 1859, in Windsor county, and 
have since been prosecuted to limited ex- 
tent. At Bridgewater, the gold has been 
found in place, in a quartz vein, associated 
with galena, and pyritous copper, and iron. 
It has not proved sufficiently rich to work. 
Through western Massachusetts and Connect- 
icut, and the south-east part of New York, 
and through New Jersey and Pennsylvania, 
the talcose and argillaceous slates, and the 
other rocks of the gold belt, appear to be 
unproductive in this metal, a little gold only 
having been met with in some of the ores 
worked for lead and copper in Lancaster 
county, near the borders of Maryland. 
Specimens of quartz rich in gold have been 
found in Montgomery county, in the last- 
named state ; but no mine has been worked 
there. 

In Virginia the deposit mines of Louisa 
county especially were very productive even 
in 1833, and thev had not been worked long 
before rich veins were found, and operation! 




UYDRAULIC MIXING. 



By this operation, as described in tho text, hills of loose materials or of decomposed slates and other 
rocks containing gold, are washed down, and the earthy matters arc swept away through the sluices 
mado cither of wooden troughs or by excavating channels in the bed-rock. In these the coarse gold is 
wiught against the bars placed at intervals across the sluices. This is a purely Californian method, and 
lias proved so effectual in collecting the little gold buried in large bodies of earth, that it is now generally 
adopted in other gold regions in which the conditions are favorable for its practice. 



M-^-^"^ 






i>p Tin rirtsnrifi^ 







'-^^^fe?:^:;.^ 






TUNNELLING AT TABLE MOUNTAIN, CALIFORNIA. 



This represents a common method of reacliing beds of rich ores that He at considerable depths 
below the surface, by which the labor of removing the superficial deposits is avoided. Veins of ores, 
whether lying at a steep or gentle inclination, are often explored by such tunnels driven in upon their 
course. The sides and roof may be protected or not, as the ground is soft or solid, by timbering. 

At the outside of the tunnel below the railroad track is the machine called the "long tom," a shallow 
trough, ten to twenty feet long, and about sixteen inches wide. The lower end, which turns up gently 
from the plane of the bottom, is shod with iron and perforated with holes. The water from the mine is 
turned on the upper end, and flows up this slope and through the holes, carrying with it the finer mud 
and sand wliich are continually thrown into the tom. One man at the lower end keeps the mud in motion 
and removes the coarse lumps. Under the lower end of the tom is placed a "riffle box," in which mer- 
cury may be used to advantage if the gold is in fine particles. 




J 

LARGK ROCKER USED IN CALIFORNIA WITH QUICKSILVER. 



The above cut represents a rocker of unusual dimensions, which has been introduced in some places 
in California, and is employed particularly for auriferous deposits in which the gold is in too line particles 
to be caught in the long tom. It is sMghtly inclined, and is rocked by one man while the others collect 
the gravel and throw it upon the perforated iron plate. Across the bottom of the trough are placed 
"riffle bars," and bcliind each one of tliese some mercury. The fine particles of gold coming in contact 
with this are caught and retained in the form of amalgam. The coarse gravel fells off the lower end of 
the plate, while the fine mud and sand are washed by the water through the holes m the plate. 




STAJIPS FOR CRUSni::6 GOLD ORES. 



Tliis cut represents a common form of stamps, such as are used for pulverizing auriferous quartz 
or other ores. They are variously arranged at different mills ; sometimes four or five running in one 
set, and several sets being placed on the same line, but separate from each other. This arrangement is 
more convenient for stopping a portion at a time as may be required for repairs or for collecting the very 
coarse gold under the stamps which cannot pass through the grating or the plates, perforated with many 
holes, that are usually employed in front of the stamps. 



GOLD. 



69 



upon these had been carried on to consider- 
aBle extent previous to 1836, principally in 
the counties of Spottsylvania, Oranc^e, Louisa, 
Fluvanna, and Buckingliam. Some of the 
mines produced at times very ricli returns, but 
their yield was, for the most part, exceedingly 
irregular, the gold occurring in rich pockets 
or nests, very unequally scattered in the vein. 
The occasional richness of the veins caused 
the attention of wealthy capitalists in this 
country and in England to be directed to 
this region, and large outlays were made, in 
providing powerful engines and other suita- 
ble machinery for working the ores, and in 
opening the mines. But, although the oper- 
ations have been directed by the best mining 
skill, supported by abundant capital, the en- 
terprise, on the whole, has not proved suc- 
cessful, and since 1853 the business has 
greatly declined in importance. 

In North Carolina numerous quartz veins 
have been worked during the last 30 years, 
and operations are still carried on with mod- 
erate success at several mines in Guilford, 
Davidson, Montgomery, Cabarrus, Rowan, 
and Mecklenburg counties. Deposit mines 
have been worked with great success, also, 
in Burke, Rutherford, and McDowell coun- 
ties. At a single time, it is stated, there 
might have been seen, from one point of 
view in McDowell county, no less than 3,000 
persons engaged in washing the deposits. 
In this district sluice-washing has recently 
been successfully introduced by Dr. Van 
Dyke, who is also engaged in the same proc- 
ess in Georgia. The most important group 
of mines is at Gold Hill, on the southern 
line of Rowan and Cabarrus counties. Min- 
ing operations were begun here in 1843, and 
for 10 years the annual product averaged 
about $100,000; the last four years of this 
period more than one-third of all the gold 
coined at the Charlotte mint was from Gold 
Hill. In 1853 the property was purchased 
by a New York company, by which it has 
since been worked, but with greatly reduced 
profits, although the mines have been fur- 
nished with the most efficient machinery. 
These are the deepest gold mines in the At- 
lantic states, one of the shafts having now 
reached the depth of 680 feet. The ore is pyr- 
itous iron, containing gold in particles rarely 
visible, and probably chemically combined 
with the iron and sulphur in the form of a 
double sulphuret. It is separated with difficul- 
ty, and very imperfectly, by the processes of 
crushing and amalgamating ; and the immense 



heaps of tailings collected below the mines, 
amounting probably to over two million bush- 
els, still retain quantities of gold worth from 
fifty cents to two dollars the bushel. In Da- 
vidson county a mine was opened in 1839, 
which produced in the three succeeding 
years about 17,000 worth of gold, when the 
ore was proved to be more valuable for sil- 
ver than for gold. These metals were as- 
sociated with a variety of metallic ores, 
among which the sulphuret, carbonate, and 
phosphate of lead were especially abundant. 
Furnaces wore constructed for reducing these, 
and separating the silver obtained with the 
lead. This is the only mine east of the 
Rocky Mountains which has furnished any 
considerable amount of silver to the mint. 
It is now known as the Washington mine. 

Although many gold mines have been 
worked in South Carolina, the only one of 
much note is the Dorn mine, in Abbeville 
district. In 1850 this mine, then quite new, 
produced gold to the value of 1 19,000, and 
in 1852 the production rose to $202,216, al- 
though the mine was provided with very im- 
perfect machinery and worked in a very 
rude manner. This large yield was, how- 
ever, of short duration, the gold occurring 
in great quantity only in streaks or pocketi 
upon a short portion of the vein. 

The Georgia gold mines, first worked in 
the north-east part of the state in 1829, were 
soon found to extend south-west into the 
country beyond the Chestatee river, which 
was then possessed by the Cherokee Indians. 
In 1830 the borders of this territory were 
overrun by a reckless set of adventurers, not- 
withstanding the attempts made, fiist by a 
force of United States troops stationed for 
the protection of the Indians, and afterward 
by Georgia troops, when the state extended 
her laws in 1830 over the Cherokee country. 
On the removal of the Indians, their lands 
were distributed in 40 acre lots, by lottery, 
among the inhabitants of the state, and thus 
titles were obtained to the gold mines. The 
deposit mines yielded richly for a few years, 
and the whole product of gold for the first 
ten years of their working is supposed to 
have amounted to $16,000,000, a large por- 
tion of which never reached the United States 
mints, but was distributed in barter through- 
out the neighboring states and worked up in 
jewelry. From 1839 to 1849 the produc- 
tion did not probably exceed $4,000,000. A 
number of quartz veins were opened in Hab- 
ersham, Lumpkin, Cherokee, Carroll, Colum- 



10 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



bia, and other counties, and considerable 
amounts of gold were obtained from these. 
They were, however, generally abandoned 
when the workings reached a depth at which 
machinery would be required for draining 
the mines. In Columbia county, about 20 
miles from Augusta, the McCormack mine 
has been worked without interruption for 
about 20 years steadily, producing very fair 
profits. The gold is found in small particles 
in a honey-combed quartz, which contains 
but little pyrites and some galena. Nearly 
all the gold was obtained within 70 feet of 
the surface. 

In Lumpkin county the gold is found in 
immense beds of decomposed micaceous and 
talcose slates, which, too poor to be worked 
by the slow process of crushing the whole 
material in mills and then washing away the 
earthy matter, will probably well repay the 
more thorough system of operations accord- 
ing to the California hydraulic process. Af- 
ter these beds had remained neglected for 
many years. Dr. 11. M. Van Dyke, who had 
gained experience in California, and already 
applied it in introducing the system into 
North California, found in Boston, Mass., 
capitalists who agreed to furnish the money 
required for securing the richest tracts in the 
vicinity of Dahlonega, and conveying to 
them the water for washing down the hills 
on the plan, which will be more particularly 
noticed in speaking of the California mines. 
In 1858 he commenced operations, which 
have since been actively conducted ; taking 
the water of the Yahoola river at a point 
about 13 miles above the spot where it will 
be first used, and conveying it by a canal or 
ditch over the more elevated portion of the 
country, crossing the valleys by means of 
sluices supported upon trestle-work, the 
height of which gradually increases with the 
descent of the streams, until at the crossing 
of the Yahoola near Dahlonega the high 
trestle now in construction is at the level of 
240 feet above the bed of the river, with a 
span between the hills of 1,400 feet. Be- 
yond this crossing the canal is to be extended 
two miles further, to reach the rich deposits 
upon which the hose washing will be first 
applied. It is expected that the arrange- 
ments will be completed early in 1861, and 
that from the numerous localities controlled 
by the company, at which the water can be 
used to advantage, the proceeds will revive 
the reputation of the Georgia gold mines. 

Another association was formed in Boston 



in 1857, called the Nacoochee Hydraulic 
Mining Company, for the purpose of apply- 
ing the same system to the high grounds in 
White county, recently a part of Haber- 
sham, in which are the mines of the Nacoo- 
chee valley and its vicinity, at one period 
highly productive, and where many deposits 
exist at so great an elevation, that no water 
has heretofore been brought to bear upon 
them. By damming the Nacoochee river, 
this company can carry water to these points ; 
and their arrangements are already nearly 
completed. In some experimental trials they 
have, by the use of a current of water that 
would flow through a six-inch pipe, obtained 
several hundred dollars per week with the 
labor of two miners. From one spot more 
than 1,500 dwts. were washed out in small 
nuggets, several of about 1 00 dwts. each, and 
one of 387 dwts. The value of these is $1 
the dwt., and of the gold dust 97 cents. 
The auriferous belt of rocks consists of al- 
ternating beds of micaceous, hornblende, and 
talcose slates and gneiss, which stand nearly 
vertically, and contain between their layers 
bands of quartz. The gold is found in the 
quartz and in the auriferous pyrites accom- 
panying it, and to some extent in the slg,tes 
also. Detached or " free" gold is also met 
with, derived, no doubt, from pyrites which 
has decomposed and disappeared. From 
the general disintegration of the edges of 
these strata, gold has been distributed in the 
deposits around. 

From Georgia, the gold-bearing rocks are 
traced into eastern Tennessee, where they 
have been worked along the range of the 
Coweta and Smoky Mountains; and from 
the south side of the Blue Ridge, in Georgia, 
they have proved productive in a south-west 
direction, through Carroll county, into Ala- 
bama; but the formation is soon lost in the 
last-named state. 

The gold regions along both slopes of the 
Rocky Mountains are, however, the most re- 
markable yet discovered on this continent. 
In Colorado, "the whole range of moun- 
tains seems crowded with veins of rich 
mineral ore. They run into and through 
the hill sides like the bars of a gridiron — 
every hundred feet, every fifty feet, every 
twenty feet." The first and largest develop- 
ment of these nnnes lies along and up the 
Clear Creek and centres around its sources. 
The principal mining villages of this section 
are Central City, Black Hawk and Nevada. 
Another centre of productive mining interests 



GOLD. 



71 



is in tlic South Park. The gold in Colorado 
is combined with sulphur and forms a sort 
of pyrites. This renders its extraction more 
difficult ; but processes have lately been de- 
vised which, without increasin<i; materially 
the expense, will raise the production of gold 
per cord of ore to three or five-fold what it 
has hitherto been. There are also large 
deposits of gold in New Mexico and Utah, 
which are not yet developed to any con- 
siderable extent. 

Idaho and Montana are also immensely 
rich in gold mines and placers. The Boise 
B;vsin, in Idaho, has yielded, and still yields 
to the placer miner in many parts a fair re- 
turn for his labor, and possesses, beside, 
many valuable gold-bearing quartz leads. 
The South Boise has also many valuable 
leads. The Owyhee mines, sixty miles south 
of Boise City. They are almost entirely 
silver-producing, though some gold is ex- 
tracted from the silver. In Montana, the 
placer diggings are yet paying largely, and 
the quartz leads are richer in gold than in 
any section yet discovered ; and the two 
localities which have been thus far princi- 
pally worked. Alder Gulch, and the vicinity 
of Ilclena, about one hundred and fifty 
miles apart, are yielding both gold and sil- 
ver in great profusion. 

Still another region rich in gold, richer 
perhaps tlian either of the others, though as 
yet developed with difficulty, on account of 
the hostile and treacherous Indians who 
roam over it, is the Territory of Arizona. Its 
gulches and canons abound in the precious 
metal, and it cannot be long before they 
yield in profusion their long hidden wealth. 
The completion of the Pacific railroad will 
soon make this wealth available. 

The most important gold region of the 
United States and of the world is that of 
California. Its development has not only 
largely multiplied the previous gold produc- 
tion of the globe, but it has been the means 
of rapidly bringing into the use of civilized 
nations large territories of productive lands, 
which before were an unprofitable wilderness, 
founding new states, enlarging the commerce 
of the world, and bringing into closer inter- 
course nations which before were the most 
widely separated. At the period when the 
wealth of the gold mines of California began 
to be realized, the annual production of gold 
throughout the world had gradually fallen to 
about" $20,000,000, and more than half of 
this was furnished by Russia alone. In 1853, 



only five years later, California produced an 
amount estimated at §70,000,000, and the 
total production, through the supplies, nearly 
as large, furnished at the same time by 
Australia, had increased to almost double 
this amount. Little was known of California 
previous to tlie discovery of gold at Sutter's 
mill, on the American fork of the Sacramento, 
in February, 1848; yet its being a country 
containing gold was made known by Ilak- 
luyt in his account of Drake's expedition of 
1577-9, and by Cavcllo, a Jesuit priest of 
San Jose, Bay of Francisco, who published a 
work on the country in Spain in 1 690. Re- 
ports from later travellers confirmed these 
statements at various times, and in Hunt's 
Merchants^ Magazine for April, 1 847, a report 
is presented by Mr. Sloat, which speaks in 
very decided terms of the richness of the 
gold placers of the country, as noticed by 
him during his observations of the two pre- 
ceding years. The Rev. C. S. Lyman, in a 
letter written to the editor of the American 
Journal of Science from San Jose, in March 
1848, notices the discovery of the preceding 
month as very promising. In August of that 
year it was reported that four thousand men 
w^ere engaged in working the deposits on the 
American fork, and were taking out from 
$30,000 to $40,000 a day. This com- 
prised a large portion of the population of 
California. San Francisco was almost de- 
serted, and people were pouring in from 
distant regions. The next year the emigra- 
tion commenced in the United States, both 
by sea around Cape Ilovn, and across the 
plains and Rocky ^Mountains in large parties. 
By the close of the year 1849 the number 
of persons engaged in mining Avas estimated 
at from 40,000 to 50,000 Americans, and 
about 5,000 foreigners: the total pi"oduct of 
gold at about $40,000,000. The mining 
district was traced up the valley of the 
Sacramento toward the north, and the con- 
tinuation of the same formations up that of 
the San Joaquin in the opposite direction was 
also beirinnin<r to be understood. Along the 
valleys of the streams, which flowed mto 
tliese rivers from the Sierra Nevada range to 
the east, gold was almost everywhere found, 
and upon the hills and elevated jtlains it was 
met witli beneath the saiids and clays which 
covered the surface to the depth of fifteen to 
thirty feet or more ; all the materials, earthy 
and metallic, appearing either to have been 
derived from the superficial disintegration of 
the slaty formations, or to have been depos- 



72 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



ited by ancient rivers, which have since been 
diverted in other directions. Deposits of 
this character were called dry diggings, and, 
except in the wet season, were worked to 
great disadvantage for the want of water to 
separate the earthy matters from the gold. 
In the bottoms of the streams the deposits 
contained much coarse gold, derived from 
the wearing down of the slate formations 
through which they had made their way in 
their rapid descent from the Sierra Nevada 
mountains. By the excavation of the vast 
gulches or ravines of these streams, some of 
which presented precipitous walls of about 
3,000 feet in height, an immense amount of 
gold must have been removed from its orig- 
inal beds, which, as the lighter earthy mat- 
ters were swept down the rivers, remained 
behind, forming the riches of the auriferous 
deposits. The country of this peculiar 
character was found to extend along the 
western slopes of the Sierra Nevada for 400 
or 500 miles, and the gold-bearing slates to 
spread over a width of from forty to sixty 
miles. 

Whether or no the natural processes by 
which the gold had been collected from its 
original beds suggested to the California 
miner an improved method of washing the 
auriferous formations upon a gigantic scale, 
it was soon found that the richness of the de- 
posits would justify, especially in the dry 
diggings, large outlays in conveying water 
from great distances by canals or ditches, 
and applying this, either under the pressure 
of a great head, to tear up the material from 
its bed and wash away the earthy portions, 
or to wash the auriferous gravels as these 
were carried to the water sluices and thrown 
into them for this purpose. On this plan 
hydraulic operations were soon laid out of 
extraordinary extent. Currents were di- 
verted well up the slope of the Sierra Nevada 
mountains, and conveyed in canals along the 
sides of the hills, and in sluices, supported 
upon trestle-work, from one hill to another, 
sometimes at a height of more than 200 feet 
above the bottoms. On the hills where the 
water was required for " hose washing," it 
was taken from the canal or sluice in a large 
and strong canvas hose, to tlie lower end of 
which a nozzle, like that of a fire engine, was 
attached. The least head for efficient ser- 
vice was about 60 feet, and a head of luO 
feet was used where it could be had and the 
hose would bear it. Large hose and nozzles 
proved much more efficient than several 



smaller ones of equal or even greater capac- 
ity. As estimated by Mr. Wm. P. Blake, 
with a pipe of an inch and a half or two inches 
aperture, and a pressure of 90 feet head, 
a boy can excavate and wash as much aurif- 
erous earth as 10 or 15 men by the ordinary 
methods. In suitable places, where the waste 
water can flow rapidly away though the 
sluices made for its channel and for catching 
the gold, the jet of water is directed against 
the side of a hill, which it rapidly excavates, 
sweeping off the earthy portions, undermin- 
ing the trees, and rolling down the loose 
stones, and, Avhere the ground is favorable 
for the operation, cutting every thing away, 
it may be to a depth of 100 feet from the 
top to the bottom of the excavation, leaving 
behind barren acres of loose stone in un- 
sightly piles — a perfect picture of desola- 
tion. At the close of the year 1858 it was 
estimated that the artificial water-courses al- 
ready constructed for mining purposes in 
California amounted to 5,726 miles in length, 
and their cost to $13,575,400 ; and besides 
these there were branches not enumerated, 
and others in construction, to the extent of 
about 1,000 miles more. Among the prin- 
cipal of these canals are the Columbia and 
Stanislaus, in Tuolumne county, which is 
80 miles long, and cost $600,< 00 ; the Butte, 
in Amador county, 50 miles long, cost 
$400,000; that of the Union Water Com- 
pany, in Calaveras county, 78 miles long, 
cost $320,000 ; and that of the Tuolumne 
Hydraulic Company, 60 miles long, cost 
$3uO,000. Notwithstanding the cost of 
these enterprises, they have proved in gen- 
eral highly profitable, paying, after deducting 
the expenses of keeping them up, from one to 
more than five per cent, a month. The water 
is sold to the miners by the canal companies 
at so much per inch of the discharge — this 
being from a horizontal aperture, one inch 
high, at the bottom of a box in which the 
water is kept six inches deep. The length 
of the aperture is regulated by a slide. The 
price has fallen from $3.00 an inch per day 
in 1851, to 50 cents in 1854, and is now 
still less. 

Sluice-washing, which is a necessary part 
of the hydraulic or hose process, is also 
carried on independently of it, and by a 
method which was first adopted in Califor- 
nia. Channels are made sometimes upon 
the surface of the slaty beds in place, the 
ragged edges of which are very favorable for 
catching the gold, or sometimes of boards, 



73 



curing it by canals from a distance, operated 
for a time stron<,dy against the success of 
these works. Upon the Mariposa estate, 
once the property of Gen. J. C. Fremont, 
one of the earliest and most extensive ex- 
periments in quartz mining was made. The 
quartz veins on that estate were not so rich 
as some which have since been discovered 
elsewhere, yielding by the old Mexican pro- 
cess, only eight or nine dollars to the ton. 
By the new " Eureka Process," the yield was 
increased to forty or fifty dollars per ton, and 
from the Princeton mine alone over three mil- 
lion dollars were taken out before 1867. Had 
this noble property been wisely managed, it 
would have made the General the wealthiest 
of American millionaires ; but unfortunately, 
prosecuting his schemes too rapidly, lie fell 
into the hands of men who stripped him of his 
grand estate and spent its profits in litigation. 
But whatever may be the ultimate fate of 
this great estate, the success of quartz mining 
in California is assured ; there were in the 
State, in the spring of 1868, 472 quartz 
mills carrying a total of 5,120 stamps, and 
nearly all were doing a profitable business. 
There is, of course, a great difference in the 
yield of different veins ; some, after a period 
of great productiveness, coming upon barren 
quartz, where the jield is insutficient to pay 
expenses, and then passing on to a gangue 
richer and more productive than the vein first 
opened. Others have the precious metal in 
''chutes" or ''cliimneys" scattered along the 
course of the vein, which are enormously pro- 
ductive, while the intervening portions are en- 
tirely barren. Others still yield a steady and 
uniform percentage, by economy and industry 
paying a fair remuneration. In general it 
may be said that quartz mining yields a more 
certain though more moderate success than 
any other kinds of gold mining. 
* The production of the mines of California, 
from 1848 to 1870, was as follows according 
to the best authorities : 



184S 810,000,000 

1849 40,1)00,000 

1850 51 ),()()(), f)()0 

1851 5 5. ( 100,000 

1852 6(t,00 1,000 

1853 65,100,000 

1854 60,000,000 

1855 55,000,000 

1856 55,0011000 

1857 55,1100,000 

1858 50,000,000 

1859 50,000,000 



1860 $45,000 000 

1861 4(1,000,000 

1862 34,700,000 

1863 30,000,000 

1864 26,600,0(10 

1865 28,500,000 

1866 26,500,000 

1867 25,000,000 

1868 28,000,000 

1869..:^.. 27,800,000 

1870 28,500,000 

$945,600,000 



the steep slopes, in zigzag lines, upon grades 
varying from 2 to 7^ feet in 100, and with 
17 curves of radii, varying from 53 to 84 
feet. The width of the track is 30 inches, 
and the rails are of iron bars set on edge. 
The cars carry each 2^ tons of rock, and are 
run down in 45 minutes, their movement 
being regulated by a brake. By the con- 
struction of this road and the completion of 
new mills, furnished with powerful stamp- 
ing machinery, and with inexhaustible sup- 
plies of ore at command. Col. Fremont is 
now in a position to thoroughly test the 
question as to the dependence that may be 
placed upon quartz mining in California as 
a permanent business. 

The total production of the mines of Cali- 
fornia, as nearly as can be made up from the 
official returns, has been presented in the 
following values, in pounds sterling, for the 
years named : — 



1848 £11,700 

1849 1,612,000 

1850 5,000,000 

1851 8,250.000 

1852 11,700,000 



1853 £12,500,000 

1854 14,100,000 

1855 13,400,000 

185G 14,000,000 

1857 13,110,000 



The quantities deposited in the mints of 
the United States will be given, together 
with those from other states, in the course 
of this article. 

Gold is almost universally found native, 
or uncombined with other substances, and 
the processes for separating it from the 
stony matters with which it is associated 
iilay be, and commonly are, wholly mechani- 
cal. It occurs in the alluvial deposits, mixed 
with their lowest beds of sand and gravel ; 
also in veins, usually of quartz, which often 
contain various metallic ores besides the 
gold; and it is disseminated through the 
mass of great beds of slate, which are fre- 
quently in a more or less decomposed con- 
dition. From such beds it is often distribu- 
ted in fine particles through the soil in their 
vicinity. Not subject to be chemically af- 
fected by any of the ordinary agents of 
change, the particles of gold, laige or small, 
remain unaltered in the soil, always seeking 
by their great weight the lowest level ; and 
they may at any time be collected by wash- 
ing away the earthy matters. New locali- 
ties are tested by trying the earth in differ- 
ent places, by washing it in an iron pan or 
upon the blade of a shovel, an experienced 
hand readily throwing the heavy particles 
by themselves, while the lighter are allowed 
to flow away. This method is one of the 



74 



MININO INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES 



means in use for collecting gold upon a 
small scale, and the Mexicans of the gold 
regions, by long practice, are particularly 
expert in it. If a vein is to be tested, the 
quartz is finely crushed, and the powder is 
then washed in the same manner. Gold 
may be thus brought to view when none 
was visible in the stones, however closely ex- 
amined. By placing a little mercury or 
quicksilver in the pan, the gold will be more 
perfectly secured, as, by coming in contact 
with each other, these metals instantly unite 
to form a heavy amalgam, and the mercury 
thus holds the finest particles of gold so that 
they cannot escape. The mixture, separated 
from the sand, is squeezed in a piece of thick 
linen or deerskin, through which the excess 
of mercury escapes, leaving the amalgam. 
This may then be heated on a shovel, when 
the mercury goes off in vapor, and the gold 
is left in its original-shaped particles, coher- 
ing together in a cake. If the quantity of 
amalgam is considerable, it is distilled in a 
retort, and the mercury is condensed to be 
used again. This amalgamation fails entirely 
if the slightest quantity of any greasy sub- 
stance is present, as a film of the grease coats 
every portion of the mercury, and effectually 
prevents its contact with the gold. These 
processes contain the principles of nearly all 
the methods in use for separating gold. A 
great variety of machines have been bjvsed 
upon them, the simplest of which have proved 
the most valuable. The Burke rockep has 
always been a favorite machine in the south- 
ern states, and has been largely used in Cali- 
fornia by small companies of miners, and in 
localities where operations were not carried 



I'M/ <T'i'^/j''' ^ ' ' ^ Vi 








BUBKE ROCKEB. 



on upon a very extensive scale. It is a cradle- 
shaped trough, about six feet long, set on 
two rockers, the upper end a few inches 
higher than the lower, and placed so as to 
receive at its head a current of water from 
the end of a leading trough above. This 
falls upon a perforated iron plate, set as a 
shelf in the machine, and upon this the 
auriferous gravel is thrown. The finer par- 
ticles fall through as the rocker is kept in 
motion by hand, and the coarse gravel rolls 
down to the lower end, and falls off" upon 
the ground. Across the bottom of the 
rocker are placed, at intervals of 6 or 8 
inches, low bars or partitions which catch 
the heavy sands, and prevent their being 
washed out of the lower end with the water 
and mud. This lower portion is sometimes 
arranged as a drawer, which can be secured 
by a lock, so that the gold which falls into 
it is safe against robbery. The drawer is 
called the " rifile box." Some rockers are 
mere open troughs without a shelf. The 
" tom" is often preferred to the rocker, which 
it resembles, except in its being a trough 
without rockers, on the plan of the sluices 
already described. Both it and the rocker 
are of convenient size for moving about from 
one place to another, as the working of the 
deposit advances. 

Vein mining requires more efficient ma- 
chinery, and stamping mills are constructed 
as near as may be to the mines, for reducing 
the stony materials to powder, and the sands 
from the stamps are passed through a variety 
of machines designed to catch the gold. 
Stamps are solid blocks of the heaviest cast 
iron attached to the end of a wooden or iron 
rod called the leg, to which the lifting cam 
is applied for raising them. They common- 
ly weigh about 300 lbs. each, though in 
California they are made of twice and even 
three times this weight. Several of them 
are set together in a frame side by side, and 
are lifted in succession by the cams upon a 
horizontal shaft, which revolves in front of 
them. The bed in which they stand, and 
into which the ore to be crushed is thrown, 
is sometimes a massive anvil, hollow in the 
top, firmly imbedded in a heavy stick of 
timber, or is formed of stones, beaten by the 
stamps themselves into a solid bed. Water 
is usually supplied in small currents to the 
stamps, and sometimes mercury also is pour- 
ed into the bed. The only exit for the 
crushed materials is through small holes 
punched in a sheet of copper, of which the 




YUSKMITK VAI.l.KV. 




FATHER OF THE FORES!'. 




I'KOsrECTER I\ CALIFOUMA iiOU) .MINE: 



y.s 




CllIXE.-K 1\ C AI.IF. ili.VIA r. ILJJ MINE:- 



75 



side of tlic boxinrj around the stamps is form- 
ed, opposite to that at which the ore is fed. 
Througli these holes the mud and water 
are projected with every blow into a capa- 
cious box, the floor of which inclines gently 
back toward the stamp, and contains alono- 
this edge a quantity of mercury, in whi('h a 
considerable portion of the ijold is cauoht. 
From the box a spout leads the current into 
the other machines, often throutjli an inclined 
trough, in the bottom of which baize or 
blanket stuff is laid for the purpose of en- 
tangling in its fibres the particles of gold 
that are swept along. These are frequently 
taken up and cleaned. Much of the gold, 
however, always escapes them, and the cur- 
rent is variously treated before it is finally 
allowed to flow away. The sands require to 
be more finely pulverized, and the current 
first flows into mills of some sort, as the 
Chilian mill, arrastre, etc. The former con- 
sists of a pair of heavy wheels of granite, from 
four to six feet in diameter when new, set in 
a horizontal frame, one on each side of an 
upright shaft, and carried around with the 
shaft as it revolves upon its axis. The stones 



They revolve in a water-tight box or tub 
upon a granite floor. Sometimes they are 
used in the place of stamps for breaking up 
the coarse ore ; and worked at the rate of 
eight to twelve revolutions a minute, tliey 
should crusli to fine sand from one to two 
tons of quartz in twelve liours. The w ater, 
which flows in one side the tub, passes out 
over the opposite edge with the light slime 
and fine mud, while much of the gold re- 
mains in the bottom, cauglit by the mercuiv 
placed there to secure it. The arrastre is 
something like the Chilian mill, oidy instead 
of revolving stones, heavy flat ones are drag- 
ged round with the shaft by chains, secured 
to the horizontal arms. These machines in 
Mexico are worked by horses or mules, but 
in this country by water or steam power. 
The slowness of their operation is not reo-ai-d- 
ed as an objectionable feature, but on the 
contrary is favorable for effectually securing 
the gold. Among the simplest and best 
contrivances employed below the Chilian 
mill are the " shaking tables." These are 
platforms seven or eight feet long, of plank 
in a single piece, as wide as can be procured. 




CRIISUINO MILL, OK ARUASTItf;. 



being as close as possible to the shaft, have 
a twisting motion which acts powerfully to 
grind the particles crushed by their weio-ht. 
5* 



llic planks, of two inches thickness, aro 
worked down from a line across the middle 
to a thin edge at one end, and from the other- 



76 



MINING INDUSTRY OP THE UNITED STATES. 



end they are made to diminish to half an 
inch thickness at the line across the middle. 
Each one is furnished with sides, and a strip 
across the thin end of six inches in height, 
the joining made perfectly tight, and is then 
swinig between four posts in a horizontal 
position by four rods or chains, which should 
be at least eight feet long. Mercury is pour- 
ed into the two divisions, until they are 
more than half filled. The sands are made 
to flow in upon the thin end, and are receiv- 
ed upon the surface of the mercury ; and the 
table is made to swing forward and back by 
the revolution of a crank. By the motion 
the sands are mixed in with the mercury, 
and swept along in successive waves, and 
falling over the middle ridge are treated in 
the same manner in the succeeding division. 
The mercury is retained by its weight in the 
depressed portions of the table, and the wa- 
ter and sands are discharged over the open 
end. Of the numerous machines designed 
for effecting the amalgamation of the gold 
patented within the last few years ; few in- 
volve any new principles, but are merely 
modified forms of the old contrivances. Prof. 
A. K, Eaton, of New York, found that amal- 
gamated metallic surl'aces could be made to 
collect most completely the very fine parti- 
cles of gold, which by all other processes it 
has been found impossible to secure. The 
use of copper, brass, or zinc proved trouble- 
some and impracticable from the rapidity 
with which they were dissolved in the mer- 
cury, adulterating tlie amalgam. An amal- 
gamated iron surface proved to be free from 
this objection, and the following description 
of apparatias was linally decided on as the 
most efficient: A circular plate of wrought 
iron is amalgamated over what is intended 
to be its inferior surface, and an open tube 
is fixed in its center, rising three or four feet 
high, and furnished at the top with a bowl 
or funnel. This tube and disk are supported 
upon a surface of mercury contained in a 
shallow tub of larger diameter than the disk, 
a frame-work being attached to the tub for 
this purpose. A pulley is fixed upon the 
hollow shaft, so that a belt may be attached 
for causing the disk to rotate upon the mer- 
cury. The sands are fed with water into 
the funnel at the top of the tube, and the 
pressure caused by the height of the column 
carries them down upon tie mercurial sur- 
face, and, by reason of this p assure and the 
centrifugal action of the re\olvingdisk, they 
gradually work outward between this sur- 



face and the amalgamated surface above, be- 
ing pressed an J rubbed between them till 
they escape round the circumference of the 
disk, and flow over the edge of the . tub. 
Hot water, as in all other modes of amalga- 
mating, is i^referable to cold. By this pro- 
cess all free gold, however fine the particles, 
must come in contact with the amalgamated 
surface, and be taken up by the mercury. 
It perfectly separates the gold that in other 
machines floats off in the fine slime. In gold 
ores, especially those of sulphurous character, 
much of the gold is so fine that it remains 
suspended a long time in water, and is en- 
tirely lost. The important feature of this 
invention is the use of an inferior amalga- 
mated surface, against which these floating 
particles are pressed. The pressure is se- 
cured by any desired depth of the mercury, 
but in practice less than an inch above the 
lower edge of the plate is found to be suffi- 
cient. The eflficiency of the machine was 
fully tested in November, 1860, at the Gold 
Hill mme, in Noith Carolina, where good 
results were obtained with it. In the same 
month it was tried at the U. S. assay office, 
N. Y., upon the tailings of the sweeps from 
which all the gold had been extracted that 
could be removed by the amalgamating ma- 
chines in use, and from these it readily sepa- 
rated the remaining portion. 

As remarked in the mention made of the 
Gold Hill mines, when gold is associated 
with iron and copper pyrites it is held very 
tenaciously, as if combined itself with the 
sulphur, like the other metals. However 
finely such ores are pulverized, every micro- 
scopic particle of pyrites appears to retain a 
portion of gold, and prevent its uniting with 
the mercury. This portion of the gold, con- 
sequently, escapes in the tailings; and if 
these are kept in refuse heaps, exposed to 
the weather, the pyrites slowly decompose, 
and more gold is continually set free. Thus 
it is the heaps may be washed over with 
profit for many successive years. Roasting 
of the ores is recommended by high authori- 
ties for freeing the gold at once, the effect 
of it being to break up the sulphurets, caus- 
ing the suliJmr to escape in vapor, and the 
iron to crumble down in the state of an oxide, 
or an ochreous powder, from which the gold 
is readily sei)arated. This is objected to by 
others, who assert that it involves a great 
loss of gold, which is volatilized or carried 
ofl' mechanically in the sulphur fumes. Two 
other methods adopted, since 1857, for the 



GOLD. 



77 



reduction of those ores containing larue pro- 
portions of the sulphurets of iron and cop- 
pi-r, deserve notice — viz., the "Sodium Anial- 
iianiating Trocess," and the " Tlattuer 
Chlorination Process." 

The use of tlie Soilium in mechanical com- 
bination with mercury to oxidize and thus 
remove more readily the impurities, sulphur, 
arsenic, and antimony, which interfei-e with 
the reduction or extraction of gold from the 
(juartz, Avas suggested about 18G1, and has 
been made the subject of two patents, one 
by Dr. Chas. Wurtz in New York, in 1864, 
the other by ]Mi\ Crookes, of London, in 
1 865. It has proved very successful in Col- 
orado, Nova Scotia, and California, in those 
mines where the gold was so difficult of ex- 
traction, on account of the presence of a 
large percentage of refractory pyrites. The 
yield of gold from these ores has been in- 
creased from 20 to 30 per cent. The sodium 
is however as yet so costly, that it is only 
the richer ores in which it pays, commercial- 
ly, to use it. Amalgams are now put up 
according to the formulae of the patentees, 
containing the requisite quantity of sodium 
in coml)ination with other metallic com- 
pounds. These are to be used, according 
to the amount of concentration, with from 
20 to 150 times their weight of mercury. 
The Amalgam varies from $1.25 to $1.75 
per pound. Keceutly it has been announc- 
ed that cyanide of potassium was to be 
preferred for this purpose to sodium — 
wliile it is much cheaper. The Plattner 
chlorination process requires as a prelimin- 
ary a double roasting of the ores, the first 
time at a low heat to oxidize the ore and 
burn out, as far as possible, the suljihurets 
and other impurities, and the second time, at 
a higher heat, to decompose the metallic salts 
form(;d at the first roasting. If sulphates 
of lime and magnesia are present tlusy are 
removed by the addition of some conmion 
salt to the roasting mass. When the roast- 
ing is completed the ore is discharged from 
the furnace and allowed to cool, and then 
being damped is sifted into a large vat, lined 
witii bitumen, and having a false bottom on 
which rests a filter composed of broken 
(piartz and sand. The vat is provided with 
a close-fitting cover which can be luted on 
and made air-tight. The chlorine is then 
generated in a leaden vessel by means of 
sulphuric acid, and conducted into the bot- 
tom of the vat through a leaden ])ipe. As 
it passes up through the ore more ore is 



sifted in and the vat is gradually thoroughly 
charged with the gas, when the cover, having 
been luted on and all escajie prevented, and 
the whole allowed to stand for twelve or 
eighteen hours the gold is comjiletely chlori- 
dized. Water is then introduced which ab- 
sorbs the chlorine and dissolves the chloride 
of gold, and a stream of water is ])ermitted to 
run in at the toj) of the vat till the lixiviation 
is complete. The residue in the vat is then 
throw'u away, and the solution of chloride of 
gold goes to the precipitating vat when a 
solution of proto-sulphate of iron is added 
to it, and it is permitted to stand for eight 
or ten hours. The water is then carefully 
drawn oft', the precipitated gold collected 
upon a paper filter, dried, melted and run 
into bars. This gold will be, if the process 
is carefully conducted, 999 fine, or almost 
absolutely pure gold. 

In the " branch mining " of the southern 
states, dei)osits worked l)y the rocker are 
regarded as profitable which pay a penny- 
weight or nearly one dollar per day to the 
hand employed. The great beds of decom- 
posed slates of Georgia can be woi'ked to 
profit when they yield from four to five cents 
worth of gold to the bushel of stuff", or about 
100 lbs. weight; but the mill for crushing 
and washing it must then be close at hand. 
The proportion of the gold, in this case, is 
less than 2 parts in 1,000,000. The hard 
quartz ores must contain nearly or quite 20 
cents worth of gold in the bushel, especially 
if they are pyritiferous. 

Although the gold is obtained in a metal- 
lic state, it differs very much in value in dif- 
ferent localities. Dejiosit gold from the 
vicinity of Dahlonega. in Georgia, is worth 
93 cents the pennyweight ; that of Hart 
county, in the same state, 98 cents ; of Car- 
roll county, Georgia, and Chestei'field dis- 
trict. South Carolina, $1.02 ; of Union coun- 
ty, Georgia, or the Tennessee line, 72 cents ; 
Charlotte, North Carolina $1.00; and that 
of Burke county. North Carolina, only 50 
cents. The average fineness of California 
gold is found to be from 875 to 885 parts in 
1,000, which is very near that of our gold 
coin, viz., 900 in 1,000. The native gold 
from Australia has from 960 to 966 parts in 
1,000 pure gold, and some from the Chau- 
diere, in Canada, 877.3 pure gold, and 122.3 
silver; another specimen 892.4, silver 107.6. 
The specific gravity of the metal has been 
increased by casting from 14.6 in the native 
state to 17.48. 



78 



iklNINO INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



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80 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



The most important use of gold is as a 
medium of exchange. For this purpose it 
is converted into coin at the mints, and into 
bars or bullion at the government assay of- 
fice. In this form a large portion of the re- 
ceipts from California is immediately ex- 
ported from New York to make up the bal- 
ance of foreign trade. Each bar is stamped 
with marks, representing its fineness and 
weight, and may continue to be thus used, 
or when received at foreign mints, is convert- 
ed into coin. A large amount of gold is 
consumed in jewelry, trinkets, watches, and 
plate, and still more in the form of gold- 
leaf. This last being worn out in the using, 
or being distributed in too small quantities 
together to pay for recovering it, is altogether 
lost to the community, after the articles have 
served the purpose intended. This loss in 
the time of James I. was considered so 
serious, that a special act was passed, re- 
stricting the use of gold and silver-leaf, ex- 
cept for specified objects, which, singularly 
enough, were chiefly for military accoutre- 
ments. Gold employed in the recently in- 
vented process of electrotyping, in which 
large quantities are consumed, is similarly 
lost in the using. , 

Besides the use of gold-leaf in gilding, it is 
employed quite largely by dentists as the 
best material for filling teeth. They also 
use much gold plate and wire for securing 
the artificial sets in the mouth. In book- 
binding, gold is consumed to considerable 
extent for lettering and ornamenting the 
backs of the books. The manufacture of 
gold-leaf is carried on in various places, both 
in the cities and country. It is a simple 
process, known in ancient times, but only of 
late years carried to a high degree of per- 
fection. The ingots, moulded for the pur- 
pose, and annealed in hot ashes, are rolled 
between rollers of polished steel, until the 
sheet is reduced from its original thickness 
of half an inch to a little more than -gig of 
an inch, an ounce weight making a strip ten 
feet long and li inches wide. This is an- 
nealed and cut into pieces an inch square, 
each weighing about six grains. A pile is 
then made of 1 50 of these pieces, alternating 
with leaves of fine calf-skin vellum, each one 
of which is four inches square, and a number 
of extra leaves of the vellum are added at 
the top and bottom of the pile. The heap, 
called a tool or kutch, is slipped into a 
parchment case open at the two ends, and 
this into a similar one, so that each side of 



the pack is protected by one of the case. It 
is placed upon a block of marble, and then 
beaten with a hammer weighing sixteen 
pounds, and furnished with a convex face, 
the efiect of which is to cause the gold to 
spread more rapidly. The workman Avields 
this with great dexterity, shifting it from one 
hand to the other, without interfering with 
the regularity of the blow\ The pack is oc- 
casionally turned over, and is bent and rolled 
in the hands to cause the gold to extend 
freely between the leaves, as it is expanded. 
The gold-leaves are also interchanged to ex- 
pose them all equally to the beating. When 
they have attained the full size of the vellum, 
which is done in about twenty minutes, they 
are taken apart, and cut each one into four 
pieces, making 600 of the original 150. 
These are packed in gold-beater's skin, and 
the pack is beaten as before, but with a 
lighter hammer, until they are extended 
again to sixteen square inches. This oc- 
cupies about tAvo hours. The gold-leaves 
are then taken out, and spread singly upon 
a leather cushion, where they are cut into 
four squares by two sharp edges of cane, ar- 
ranged in the form of a cross. To any 
other kind of a knife the gold would adhere. 
These leaves are again packed, 800 together, 
in the finest kind of gold-beater's skin, and 
expanded till each leaf is from 3 to 3i 
inches square. The aggregate surface is 
about 1 92 times larger than that of the orig- 
inal sheet, and the thickness is reduced to 
about the 75 oVoo ^f an inch. The beating 
is sometimes carried further than this, es- 
pecially by the French, so that an ounce of 
gold is extended over 160 square feet, and 
its thickness is reduced to 2-3 tVo ^^ ^'^ inch, 
or even to 25 oVoo- When the pack is open- 
ed, the leaves are carefully lifted by a pair 
of wooden pliers, spread upon a leather 
cushion by the aid of the breath, and cut 
into four squares of about 3i inches each, 
which are immediately transferred one by 
one between the leaves of a little book of 
smooth paper, which are prevented from ad- 
hering to the gold-leaves by an application 
of red ochre or red chalk. Twenty-five 
leaves are put into each book, and Avhen fill- 
ed, it is pressed hard, and all projecting edges 
of the gold are wiped away with a bit of 
linen. The books are then put up in pack- 
ages -of a dozen together for sale. 

An imitation gold-leaf, called Dutch gold- 
leaf, is used to some extent. It is prepared 
from sheets of brass, which are gilded, and 



81 



beaten down in the manner already described. 
When new it appears like i^cnuine gold- 
leaf, bnt soon becomes tarnished in use. 
I'arty tjold-leaf is formed of leaves of gold 
and of silver, laid together and made to unite 
by beating and hammering. It is then beaten 
down like gold-leaf. 

The gold-beater's skin used in this manu- 
facture is a peculiar preparation made from 
the .cajcum of the ox. The membrane is 
doubled together, the two mucous surfaces 
face to face, in whicli state they unite firmly. 
It is then treated with preparations of alum, 
isinglass, whites of eggs, etc., sometimes 
with creosote, and after being beaten be- 
tween folds of paper to expel the grease, is 
pressed and dried. In this way leaves are 
obtained 5} inches square, of which moulds 
are made up, containing each 850 leaves. 
After being used for a considerable time, the 
leaves become dry and stiff, so that the gold 
cannot spread freely between them. To 
remedy this, they are moistened with wine 
or with vinegar and water, laid between 
parchment, and thoroughly beaten. They 
are then dusted over with calcined selenite 
or gypsum, reduced to a fine powder. The 
vellum, which is used before the gold-beater's 
skin, is selected from the finest varieties, 
and this, too, after being well washed and 
dried under a press, is brushed over with 
pulverized gypsum. 

In the great exhibition at London in 1851, 
machines were exhibited from the United 
States, and also from Paris, which were de- 
signed for gold-beating, and it was supposed 
they would take the place of the hand proc- 
ess. They have been put into operation at 
Hartford, in Connecticut, but after being 
tried, they have been laid aside for the old 
method. 



CHAPTER IV. 

LEAD. 

Lead is met with in a great number of 
combinations, and has also been found in 
small quantity, at a few localities in Europe, 
in a native state. The common ore, from 
which nearly all the lead of commerce is ob- 
tained, is the sulphuret, called galena, a com- 
bination of 86.55 per cent, of lead and 13.45 
of sulphur. It is a steel gray mineral of bril- 
liant metallic lustre when freshly broken, and 
is often obtained in largo cubical crystals : the 



fragments of these are all in cubical forms. 
The ore is also sometimes in masses of gran- 
ular structure. Very frecpiently galena con- 
tains silver in the form of sulphuret of that 
metal, and gold, too, lias often been detected 
in it. The quantity of silver is estimated by 
the number of ounces to the ton, and this 
may amount to 100 or 200, or even more; 
but when lead contains three ounces of silver 
to the ton this may be profitably separated. 
Ores of this character are known as argentif- 
erous galena ; if the silver is more valuable 
than the lead they are more properly called 
silver ores. In Mexico and Germany such 
are worked, but not in the United States. 
Galena is easily melted, and in contact with 
charcoal the sulphur is expelled and the lead 
obtained. The ore is found in veins in rocks 
of different geological formations, as in the 
metamorphic rocks of New England, the 
lower Silurian rocks of Iowa, Wisconsin, 
and Missouri, in limestones and sandstones 
of later age in New York and the middle 
states, belonging to higher groups of the Ap- 
palachian system of rocks, and in the new red 
sandstone of Pennsylvania at its contact with 
the gneiss. 

Carbonate of lead is another ore often as- 
sociated with galena, though usually in small 
quantity. It is of light color, whitish or 
grayish, commonly crystallized, and in an im- 
pure form is sometimes obtained in an eartliy 
powder. At St. Lawrence county. New 
York, large quantities of it have been col- 
lected for smelting, and were called lead 
ashes. The ore may escape notice from its 
unmetallic appearance, and at the I\Iissouri 
mines large quantities were formerly thrown 
aside as worthless. It contains 77.5 per 
cent, of lead combined with 6 per cent, of 
oxygen, and this compound with 16.5 per 
cent, of carbonic acid. Beautiful crystals of 
the ore, some transparent, have been ob- 
tained at the mines on the Schuylkill, near 
Phoenixville, Pennsylvania ; the Washington 
mine, Davidson county. North Carolina ; and 
Mine La Motte, Missouri. 

Another ore, the phosphate or pyromor- 
phite, has been known only as a rare min- 
eral until it was produced at the Pha?nixville 
mines so abundantly as to constitute much 
the larger portion of the oi-es smelted. It is 
obtained in masses of small crystals of a green 
color, and sometimes of other shades, as 
yellow, orange, brown, etc., derived from the 
minute portions of chrome in combination. 
With these a variety of other compounds of 



82 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



lead are mixed, together with phospliate of 
lime and lluoride of calcium, so that the per- 
centage of the metal is variable. The com- 
pounds of lead met with at these mines are 
the sulphuret, sulphate, carbonate, phosphate, 
arseniate, molybdatc, cliromate, chromo-mol- 
vbdatc, arsenio-phosphate, and antimonial 
argentiferous. Besides all these, a single 
vein contained native silver, native copper, 
and native sulphur, three compounds of zinc, 
four of copper, four of iron, black oxide of 
manganese, sulphate of barytes, and quartz. 

The eastern portion of the United States 
is supplied with leail almost exclusively from 
Spain and Great Britain, but the western 
states are furnished with this metal from 
mines in Iowa, Wisconsin, and Missouri. 
The lead veins of the eastern and southern 
states are of little importance. In Maine the 
ores arc found in Cobscook Bay, near Lubec 
and Eastport, in limestone rocks near dikes 
of trap. Amine was opened in 1832, and 
a drift v.-as carried in about 155 feet at the 
base of a rocky cliff on the course of the 
vein ; it was then abandoned, but operations 
have recently been recommenced. In New 
Hampshire argentiferous galena is found in 
numerous places, but always in too small 
quantity to pay the expenses of extraction. 
At Shelburne a large quartz vein Avas worked 
from 1846 to 18 49, and three shafts were 
sunk, one of them 275 feet in depth. The 
ore was found in bunches and narrow streaks, 
but in small quantity. Some of it was 
smelted on the spot, and five tons were 
shipped to England, which sold for £16 per 
ton. The richest yielded 84 ounces of silver 
to the ton. Another vein of argentiferous ga- 
lena has been partially explored at Eaton, and 
this is most likely of any to prove valuable. 

Massachusetts, also, contains a number of 
lead veins, none of which have proved prof- 
itable, though some of them have been 
worked to considerable extent. The most 
noted are those of Southampton and Fast- 
hampton. Operations Averc commenced at 
the former place in 1*765 upon a great lode 
of quartz containing galena, blende, copper 
pyrites, and sul[)hate uf barytes. It is in a 
coarse granitic rock near its contact with the 
red sandstone of the Connecticut valley. 
About the year 1810 an adit level was 
boldly laid out to be driven in from 1,100 to 
1,200 feet, to intersect the vein at 140 feet 
below the surface. A single miner is said to 
have worked at it till his death, in 1828, 
when it had reached the length of 900 feet. 



At different times this adit has been pushed 
on, and when last abandoned, in 1854, it was 
supposed to be within a few feet of the vein. 
The rock was so excessively hard that the 
cost of driving the adit was about §25 per 
foot. Lead veins are found in Whately, Hat- 
field, and other towns in Hampshire county. 

In Connecticut, also, several veins have 
been worked to some extent. That at Mid- 
dletown, referred to in the introductory re- 
marks as one of the earliest opened mines in 
the United States, is the most noticeable. 
It is unknown when this mine was first 
worked. In 1852 operations Avere rencAved 
upon it, and a shaft sunk 120 feet beloAV the 
old Avorkings. The vein is among strata of 
a silicious slate, in some places quite rich, 
but on the Avhole it has proved too poor to 
Avork. The ore contained silver to the value 
of from $25 to $75 to the ton of lead. 

Lead mines have been opened in New 
York, in Dutchess, Columbia, Washington, 
Rensselaer, Ulster, and St. LaAvrence coun- 
ties. In the first four of these the ore is 
found in veins near the junction of the meta- 
morphic slates and limestones. The Ancram 
or Livingston mine, in Columbia county, has 
been worked at difterent times at consider- 
able expense, but Avith no returns. A mine in 
Northeast, Dutchess county, Avas first opened 
by some German miners in 1740, and ore 
from it Avas exported. The Committee of 
Public Safety, during the revolutionary Avar, 
sought to obtain supplies of lead from it. 
The lead veins of this part of Ncav York have 
attracted more interest, on account of their 
highly argentiferous character, than the quan- 
tity of ore they promise Avould justify; but 
it seems to be almost universally the case 
throughout the United States that the galena 
yielding much silver ftiils in quantity. The 
Ulster county mines are found on the Avest 
side of the ShaAvangunk mountain in the 
strata of hard grit rock Avhich cover its Avest- 
ern slope. At difterent places along this 
ridge veins have been found cutting across 
the strata in nearly vertical lines, and have 
produced some lead, zinc, and copper. The 
Montgomery mine, near Wurtsboro, in Sul- 
livan county, Avas chiefly productive iu zinc. 
Near Ellenville, Ulster county, several veins 
have been folloAved into the mountain, and 
one of these, Avhich Avas Avorked in 1853, 
afforded for a short time considerable quan- 
tities of rich lead and copper ores. From 
the former there Avere smelted about 459,000 
pounds of lead, and the sales of the latter 



83 



amounted to from 60 to 70 tons, of which 50 
tons yieUle J 24.3 per cent, of copper. AVherc 
the vein was productive it contained the rich 
ores unmixed with stony gangucs, and some- 
times presenting a thickness of tive feet of 
pure ore ; wlierc it became poor it closed in 
sometimes to a mere crack in the grit rock, 
and then the expense of extending the work- 
iuixs became very great from the extreme 
hardness of this rock. Open fissures were 
met with, one of wluch was more than 100 
feet long and deep, and in places 12 feet or 
more wide. It was partially filled with 
tougli yellow clay, through which were dis- 
persed fragments of sandstone, magnificent 
bunches of quartz crystals, and lumps of lead 
and copper ores. The walls on the sides 
also presented a lining in places of the same 
ores. A drift was run into the base of the 
mountain about 200 feet, and a shaft was 
sunk at the foot of the slope about 100 feet. 
The expense of working in the liard rock 
proved to be too great for the amount of ore 
obtained, and the mine was abandoned in 
1854, although its production, for the extent 
of ground opened, has been exceeded by but 
few other mines in the eastern states. The 
most promising veins in the state are those 
of St. Lawrence county in the vicinity of 
Rossie. They occur in gneiss rock, which 
they cut in nearly vertical lines. One of 
these was opened along the summit of Coal 
Hill, and was worked in 1837 and 1838 by 
an open cut of 440 feet in length, to the 
depth, in some places, of 180 feet. In 1839 
the mine was abandoned, after the company 
had realized about $241,000 by the sale of 
some 1,800 tons of lead they had extracted. 
The galena was remarkably free from blende, 
and from pyritous iron and copper, which 
(especially the first-named) are so often asso- 
ciated with the, ore, rendering it difficult to 
smelt. Calcareous spar, often finely crystal- 
lized, formed the gangue of the vein. A 
nearly transparent crystal, weighing 165 lbs,, 
is preserved in the cabinet of Yale College. 
Other attempts have been made to work the 
mine; and the cause of its being allowed to 
lie idle appears to be the difficulty of nego- 
tiating a mining right with tlie proprietors. 

In Pennsylvania the most productive lead 
mines are those of Montgomery and Chester 
counties, found in a small district of 5 or 6 
miles in length by 2 or 3 in width, at the 
line of contact of the gneiss, and red shale 
and sandstone. About 12 parallel veins 
have been discovered, extending north 32*^ 



to 35° east, and dipping steeply south-east. 
In the gneiss they are productive in lead ores, 
and in the red shale in copper. The gneiss 
is decomposed, and the vein itself is in 
considerable part ochreous and earthv, ow- 
ing to decomposition of pyritous ores. In 
this material, called by the miners gossan, 
silver has been discovered amounting to 10 
ounces to the ton. The two principal mines 
of this group are the Whcatley and the Ches- 
ter County. The former was opened in 1 851, 
and up to September, 1854, had produced 
1,800 tons of ore, principally phosphate, esti- 
mated to yield 60 per cent, of metal. In 
this vein the great number of varieties of 
lead and other ores enumerated above were 
met with. The Chester County Mining Com- 
pany commenced operations in 1850, and 
up to November, 1851, liad raised and smelted 
190,400 lbs. of ore, almost exclusively phos- 
phate, wdiich produced about 47 per cent, of 
lead. The silver in this ore amounted to 
about 1.6 ounce in 2,000 lbs. ; in the galena 
associated with it the silver was found in 
quantities varying from 11.9 to 16.2 ounces; 
the coarser grained galena giving the most, 
and the fine grained the least. In connec- 
tion with the furnaces for smelting the ores, 
was one for separating the silver by cupella- 
tion, and a considerable amount of silver was 
obtained before the mining operations were 
abandoned, in 1854. 

Lead ores are found along the Blue Ridge, 
in Virginia, and at one point, near the cen- 
tral portion of its range across the state, a 
mine has been worked for a number of years. 
They are also met with in several of the gold 
mines, but not in workable quantities. In 
south-west Virginia and east Tennessee the 
ores are found in the silurian limestones, and 
a considerable number of mines have been 
worked to moderate extent in both states. 
The most important one is the Wythe lead 
mine, 16 miles from Wytheville, which was 
worked in 1754. It is in a steep hill on the 
border of New River, a fall upon which, near 
the mine, aff'ords power for raising the water 
requii'ed in dressing the ores, and also for 
producing the blast for the furnace. Several 
shafts have been sunk, one of which extend- 
ing down to the adit — a depth of 225 feet — 
is used as a shot tower. The ores are ga- 
lena, with more or less carbonates intermixed. 
The product for 1855 is stated to have been 
500 tons of lead. The transportation of 
lead, in pigs, bars, and shot, from the south- 
west part of Virginia toward the east, by tho 



84 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



Virginia and Tennessee railroad, for the years 
named, has been as follows : — 

1856. 1857. 1858. 1859. 

lbs. lbs. lbs. lbs. 

Pig Lead 409,649 514,878 16.3,405 85i,695 

Bar Lead 234,0.37 62,230 22,580 

Shot 364,660 120,142 104,623 254,970 

Total 774,309 869,057 320,258 1, 132,245 

In the other direction the transportation 
of the same articles was comparatively unim- 
portant. 

South of Virginia the only lead mine 
of importance is the Washington mine, Da- 
vidson county, N. C. This was opened in 
1836, in the silicious and talcose slates of 
the gold region, and was worked for the 
carbonate of lead, which was found in a dull, 
heavy ore of earthy appearance, with which 
were intermixed glassy crystals of the same 
mineral. Some galena and phosphate of 
lead were also met with. After a time native 
silver was detected, and the lead that had 
been obtained was found to be rich in silver. 
Till 1844 the mine continued to produce ores 
containing much silver, and afforded the first 
deposits of this metal in the mint from do- 
mestic mines. The character of the ores 
changed, however, below the depth of 125 
feet, the silver almost disappearing. The 
actual product of the mine is not known. 
That of 1844 is said to have been $24,209 
in value of silver, and 17,253 of gold, ob- 
tained from 160,000 lbs. of lead — an average 
of 240 oz. of auriferous silver to 2,000 lbs. 
of metal. In 1851 the production was 56,896 
lbs. of lead and 7,942.16 oz. of auriferous 
silver — equal to 279 oz. to the ton of metal. 
Zinc blende and galena became at last the 
prevailing ores, the silver varying from 2.5 
to 195 oz. to the ton; and the workings were 
extended upon two parallel veins which lay 
near each other in the slates. In 1852 min- 
ing 'operations wore abandoned as unprofita- 
ble, but were soon after renewed, and are 
still continued. 

The great lead mines of the United 
States arc the upper mines, in a district 
near the Mississippi, in Iowa, the south-west 
part of Wisconsin, and the north-west part 
of Illinois ; and the lower mines, in Missouri. 
The existence of lead ores in the upper dis- 
trict was made known by Le Sueur, who dis- 
covered them in his voyage up the Missis- 
sippi in 1700 and 1701. They attracted no 
further attention, however, till a French miner, 
Julien Dubuque, commenced to work them in 
1788 ; and in this employment he continued. 



on the spot where now stands the city in 
Iowa bearing his name, until his death in 
1809. When the United States acquired 
possession of the country in 1807, the min- 
eral lands were reserved from the. sales, and 
leases of mining rights were authorized. 
These were not, however, issued until 1822, 
and little mining was done before 1826. 
From that time the production of lead rap- 
idly increased ; and the government for a 
time received the regular rates for the leases. 
But after 1834 the miners and smelters refused 
to pay them any longer, on account of so many 
sales having been made and patents granted 
of mineral lands in Wisconsin. In 1839 the 
United States government authorized a geo- 
logical survey of tlie lead region, in order to 
designate precisely the mineral tracts, and 
this was accomplished the same year by Dr. 
D. D. Owen, with the aid of 139 assistants. 
In 1844 it was decided to abandon the leas- 
ing system, and throw all the lands into the 
mai'ket. The lead region, according to the 
report of Dr. Owen, extends over about 62 
townships in Wisconsin, 1 in the north-west 
corner of Illinois, and 8 in Iowa — a territory 
altogether of about 2,880 square miles. Its 
western limit is about 12 miles from the 
Mississippi river ; to the north it extends 
nearly to Wisconsin river ; south to Apple 
river, in Illinois ; and east to the east branch 
of the Pekatonica. From east to west it is 
87 miles across, and from north to south 54 
miles. Much of the region is a rolling 
prairie, with a few isolated hills, called 
mounds, scattered upon its surface, the high- 
est of them rising scarcely more than 200 
feet above the general level. The prevailing 
limestone formations give fertility to the soil, 
and the country is well watered by numer- 
ous small streams, which flow in valleys ex- 
cavated from 100 to 150 feet below the 
higher levels. The limestone, of gray and 
yellowish gray colors, lies in nearly horizon- 
tal strata, and the portion which contains 
the lead veins hardly exceeds 50 feet in 
thickness. Beneath it is a sandstone of the 
age of the Potsdam sandstone, and above it 
are strata of limestone recognized as belong- 
ing to the Trenton limestone, so that it 
proves to be a formation interposed between 
these, quite western in character, as it is not 
met with east of Wisconsin. The veins oc- 
cupy straight vertical fissures, and several 
near together sometimes extend nearly a 
mile in an east and west direction. They 
never reach downward into the sandstone. 



LEAD. 



85 



but are lost in the lower strata of the lime- 
stone, and where the upper strata of the for- 
mation a[)pear, these cover over the veins, 
MnJ are consequently known as the cap-rock. 
In the fissures or crevices the o-alena is found, 
somotimes in loose sheets and lumps embed- 
ded in clay and earthy oxide of iron, and 
sometimes attached to one or both walls. 
It is rarely so much as a foot thick. No 
other ores are found with it, except some 
zinc blende and calamine, and occasionally 
pyritous iron and copper. The lead con- 
tains but a trace of silver. The fissures, as 
they are followed beneath the surface, some- 
times expand in width till they form what 
is called an " opening ;" and the hollow 
space may go on enlarging till it becomes a 
cave of several hundred feet in length and 
30 or 40 in width. Their dimensions are, 
however, usually within 40 or 50 feet in 
length, 4 to 8 in width, and as many in 
height. The walls of the openings often afford 
a thick incrustation of galena, besides more 
or less loose mineral in the clay, among the 
fragments of rock, with all of which the 
caves are partially filled. Flat sheets of ore 
often extend from the vertical fissures be- 
tween the horizontal limestone strata; these 
are more"apt to contain blende, and pyrites, 
and calcareous spar than the ore of the verti- 
cal crevices. Besides these modes of occur- 
rence, galena is fjund in loose lumps in the 
clayey loam of the prairies. This is called 
float mineral, and is regarded as an evidence 
of productive fissures in the vicinity. 

The galena occurs under a variety of sin- 
gular forms in the crevices. It lines curious 
cavities which extend up in the cap-rock, ter- 
minating above in a point, and which are 
known as chimneys. Upon the roofs of the 
openings it is found in large bunches of cu- 
bical crystals, and the same are obtained lying 
in the clays of the same openings. A flat 
sheet of the ore was worked in Iowa that 
was more than 20 feet across and from 2 to 
3 feet thick, each side of which turned down 
in a vertical sheet, gradually diminishing in 
thickness. It yielded 1,200,000 lbs. of rich 
galena, and more still remained behind in 
sight. The crevices near Dubucjue are the 
most regular and productive of any in the 
district. One called the Langworthy, on a 
length of about three-fourths of a mile, has 
produced 10,000.000 lbs. of ore. On the 
main fissure there were usually three ranges 
of crevices one above another, widening out 
to 16 or 20 feet. 



The smelters of this region form a distinct 
class from the miners, of whom the former 
buy the ores as these are raised, and con\ ert 
them into metal in the little smelting estab- 
lishments scattered through the country. 
The lead has been principally sent down tlie 
Mississippi river to Saint Louis and New 
Orleans ; but a portion has always been con- 
sumed in the country, and some has been 
wagoned across to Milwaukee before the con- 
struction of railroads, which since 1853 have 
aflbrded increased facilities for distributing 
in diflerent directions the product of the 
mines. The only records of the amount of 
lead obtained are those of the shipments 
down the river. The following table presents 
the number of pigs shipped from the earlier 
workings to 1857; the figures for 184 1 to 
1 850, inclusive, being furnished to Dr. Owen's 
Report of 1852 by Mr. James Carter, of Ga- 
lena. The pigs weigh about 70 lbs. each. 



SHIPMENTS OF 

Tears. 

1821 to 1S2S.. 



LEAD FROM 

Pit's. 

. 4,7U0 



1824 2,r)03 

1825 0,490 

182G 13,700 

1827 71,i;!0 

1828 158,(355 

1829 190,620 

1S30 119,000 

1831 91,170 

1832 G1,1G4 

1833 113,440 

1834 113,648 

1835 158,330 

1836 191,750 

1837 219,360 

1838 200,465 

1839 357,785 

1840 317,845 

1841 452,814 



THE UrPEi: MISSISSIPPI. 

Years. Pi its. 

1842 447.859 

1843 561,321 

1844 624,601 

1845 778,460 

1846 730.714 

1847 771,679 

1848 680,245 

1849 628,934 

1850 569.521 

1851 474.115 

1852 408,628 

1853 425,814 

1854 423,617 

1855 430,365 

1856 435,654 

1857 485,475 

1858 

1859 



The lead region of Missouri was first 
brought into public notice by the explora- 
tions of the French adventurer, Renault, 
who was sent out from Paris in 1720, with 
a party of miners, to search for precious 
metals in the territory of Louisiana, under 
a patent granted by the French government 
to the famous company of John Law. 
Their investigations Avere carried on in the 
region lying near the Mississippi and south 
of the Missouri river ; and here, thougli 
they failed to find the precious metals they 
were in search of, they discovered and 
opened many mines of lead ore. A large 
mining tract in tlie northern part of Madi- 
son county is still called by the name of 
their mineralogist, La Motte. Their opera- 



86 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



tions, however, were altogether superficial, 
and the lead they obtained was wholly by 
the rude and wasteful process of smelting 
the ores upon open log-heaps — a practice 
which even of late years is followed to some 
extent. Up to Renault's return to France, 
in 1742, little progress had been made in 
the development of this mining district. The 
next step was made by one Moses Austin, 
of Virginia, who obtained from the Spanish 
government a grant of land near Potosi, and 
commenced in 1798 regular mining opera- 
tions by sinking a shaft. He also started 
a reverberatory furnace and built a shot 
tower. Schoolcraft states in his "View of 
the Lead Mines of Missouri," that there 
were in 1819 forty-five mines in operation, 
giving employment to 1,100 persons. Mine 
a Burton and the Potosi diggings had pro- 
duced from 1798 to 1816 an annual average 
amount exceeding 500,000 pounds ; and in 
1811 the production of Mine Shibboleth 
was 3,125,000 pounds of lead from 5,000,- 
000 pounds of ore. At a later period, from 
1834 to 1837, the several mines of the La 
Motte tract produced, it is estimated, 1,035,- 
820 pounds of lead per annum. From 1840 
to 1854 the total yield of all the mines is 
stated by Dr. Litton in the state geological 
report to amount to over 3,833,121 pounds 
annually. At the close of this period it had, 
however, greatly fallen off, there being at 
that time scarcely 200 persons engaged in 
mining, besides those employed at the three 
mines known as Perry's, Valle's, and Skew- 
ers'. The principal mines have been in 
Washington, St. Francis, and other neigh- 
boring counties. The ores are found in 
strata of magnesian limestone of an older 
date than the galena limestone of Wiscon- 
sin, and supposed to lie, with the sandstones 
with which they alternate, on the same 
geological horizon as the calciferous sand 
rock, which is found in the eastern states 
overlying the Potsdam sandstone. Some 
of the mines are at the contact of the hori- 
zontal limestone with granite rocks, but the 
ores in this position are only in superficial 
deposits or in layers included in the lime- 
stone. In their general features the veins 
do not diffier greatly from those of the north- 
ern mines. Some of them, however, con- 
tain a larger proportion of other ores be- 
sides galena, as well as a greater variety of 
them. Carbonate of lead, called by the 
Miners dry bone and white mineral, is 
more abundant, and also blende, called by 



them black jack, and the silicate of zinc. 
L-on and copper pyrites are often seen, and 
at Mine la Motte are found the black oxides 
of cobalt and manganese associated with 
the carbonates of lead and copper. Nearly 
all the mining operations have been mere 
superficial excavations in the clay, which 
were soon exhausted of the loose ore and 
abandoned. But to this there are some re- 
markable exceptions of deeper and more 
permanent mines than are known in the 
northern lead regions. Such are Valle's 
and Perry's mines, both situated on the 
same group of veins, which form a network 
of fissures and openings running in every 
direction and spreading over an area of 
about 1,500 feet in length by 500 in 
breadth, the extension of which is from north- 
west to south-east. These mines have been 
steadily worked since 1824, and 22 shafts 
have been sunk upon the fissures, six of 
which are over 110 feet deep, one is 170 
feet deep, and only two are less than 50 
feet. For the first 10 to 30 feet they pass 
through gravel and clay, below this through a 
silicious magnesian limestone of light color, 
and then enter a very close-grained variety 
of the same, called by the miners the cast 
steel rock. A succession of openings are 
encountered, which are distributed with 
considerable regularity upon three different 
levels. Those of the middle series have 
been the most pi'oductive. Sometimes 
chimneys connect them with the caves of 
the tier above or below. The portion of 
these mines on the Valle tract produced, 
according to the state report, from 1824 to 
1834 about 10,000,000 pounds of lead, and 
in the succeeding 20 years about as much 
more; and Perry's mine from 1839 to 1854 
has produced about 18,000,000 pounds. 

No accurate estimates have been pre- 
served of the total production of the Mis- 
souri mines. This has always fallen far 
short of the yield of the northern mines. 
From 1832 to 1843 it is reported as running 
from 2,500 to 3,700 tons per annum, while 
that of the northern mines in the same time 
was from 5,500 to 14,000 tons, and in 
1845 it even exceeded 24,000 tons. In 1852 
Mr. J. D. Whitney estimated that the pro- 
duction in Missouri had fallen to 1,500 tons, 
or less ; and from that period it has prob- 
ably not advanced. As this decrease in 
the supply has been going on while the 
price of lead has risen to nearly three times 
what it was in 1842, the cause is probably 



LEAD. 



87 



owing to the mines themselves being in 
great part exhausted. The only sufficient 
S(jurc'os known from which the increasing 
supplies required from year to year can be 
furnished, are the mines of Great Britain 
and Spain, though should the argentiferous 
lead mines of Mexico ever be worked for 
the lead jvs well as the silver they contain, 
they might furnish large quantities of the 



Hg lead from 

American mines 

received at St 

Years. Louis and New 

Orleans. 

lbs. 

1832 8,540,000 

1833 12,600,000 

1834 14,140,000 

1835 16,000,000 

1836 18,000,000 

1837 20,000,000 

1838 20,860,000 

1839 24,000,000 

1840 27,000,000 

1841 30,000,000 

1842 33,110,000 

1843 39,970,000 

1844 44,730,000 

1845 51,240,000 

1846 54,950,000 

1847 46,130,000 

1848 42,420,000 

1849 35,560,000 

1850 40,313,910 

1851 34,934,480 

1852 28,593,180 

1853 31,497,950 

1854 21,472,990 

1855 21,441,140 

1856 15,347,880 

1857 14,028,140 

1858 21,210,420 

1859 23,442,870 

1860 22,683,125 

1861 21,554,743 

1862 20,370,188 

1863 22,798,142 

1864 18,141,878 

1865 18,266,313 

1866 23,393,450 

1867 26,301,357 

1868 30,014,759 

1869 33,717,830 

1870 37,136,742 



imports of lead are given at 64,000,000 
pounds, worth nearly $2,700,000. Of this 
about §!57,000 worth were re-exported to 
foreign countries, besides American lead to 
the value of $30,000, and a small amount of 
manufactured lead. 

Lead Smelting. The lead mines of the 
United States being scattered over wide ter- 
ritories, and their products being nowhere 
brought together in large quantities, the proc- 
ess of reducing the ores has been conducted 
in small establishments and by the most sim- 



former metal. As the production of the 
United States fell off that of Great Britain 
increased from G4,000 tons in 1850 to 73,129 
tons in 1856, and 9G,266 tons in 1857, thus 
considerably exceeding one-half of the whole 
production of the globe in this metal, which 
in 1854 was rated at about 13.3,000 tons. 
At that tiiue the production of Spain was 
rated at 30,000 tons, and of the United 
States at 15,000 tons. 









Averaso 




Invoice 


Pig, bar, and 


Invoice value 


rate of 


White and 


value of 


sheet lead 


of yearly 


duty per 


red lead 


yearly im- 


imported. 


importations. 


100 lbs. 


imported 
lbs 


portations. 


5,333,588 


$124,311 


$3.00 


557,781 


$30,791 


2,282,068 


60,660 


3.00 


625,069 


36,049 


4,997,293 


168,811 


2.77 


1,024,663 


57,572 


1,006,472 


35,663 


2.77 


832,215 


50,225 


919,087 


35,283 


2.55 


908,105 


62,237 


335,772 


13,871 


2.57 


599,980 


47,316 


165,844 


6,573 


2.34 


522,681 


38,683 


528,922 


18,631 


2.31 


720,408 


50,905 


519,343 


18,111 


2.08 


643,418 


41,043 


62,246 


2,605 


2.07 


532,122 


31,617 


4,689 


155 


3.00 


479,738 


28,747 


290 


3 


3.00 
3.00 


93,166 


5,600 


19,609 


458 


3.00 


231,171 


14,744 


214 


6 


3.00 


215,434 


15,685 


224,905 


6,288 


0.56 


298,387 


15,228 


2,684,700 


85,387 


0.64 


318,781 


19,703 


36,99V,751 


1,182,597 


0.64 


853,463 


4.3,756 


43,470,210 


1,517,603 


0.70 


1,105,852 


52,631 


37,544,588 


1,283,.331 


0.70 


842,521 


43,365 


43,174,447 


1,618,058 


0.70 


1,224,068 


69,058 


47,714,140 


2,095,039 


0.90 


1,865,893 


102,812 


56,745,247 


2,556,523 


0.90 


2,319,099 


134,855 


55,294,256 


2,528,014 


0.91 


3,548,409 


174,125 


47,947,698 


2,305,768 


0.72 


1,793,377 


113,075 


41,230,019 


1,972,243 


0.72 


1,785,851 


109,426 


64,000,000 


2,617,770 


0.72 


61,936 


3,871 


45,896,700 


1,835,868 


0.72 


177,744 


11,109 


45,654,100 


1,826,164 


0.72 


200,848 


12,.5.53 


34,611,575 


1,384,463 


0.78 


307,824 


19,239 


39,437,566 


2,816,969 


1.11 


1,004,624 


71,766 


20,897,109 


2,247,001 


1.32 


1,390,052 


149,468 


7,969,080 


1,195,362 


1.75 


1,662,516 


249,385 


40,223,888 


2,513,993 


2.25 


2,035,395 


135,693 


41,060,175 


2,737,745 


0.96 


1,464,972 


122,081 


41,437,520 


2,762,520 


1.00 


1,399,512 


116,626 


56,062,128 


3,503,883 


0.97 


336,732 


28,061 


58,310,464 


3,644,404 


0.96 


367,008 


30,584 


30, 1859, 


the 


pie methods. 


The earlier 


operations were 



limited to smelting the ores in log furnaces. 
Upon a layer of logs placed in an inelosure 
of logs or stones piled up, split wood was 
set on end and covered with the ore, and 
over this small wood again. The pile was 
fired through an opening in front. The 
combustion of the small wood removed from 
the ore a portion of the sulphur, and the re- 
duction was completed by the greater heat 
arising from the burning of the logs. The 
lead run down to the bottom and out in 
front into a basin, whence it was ladled into 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



the moulds. The loss of metal was of 
course very large ; but a portion was recov- 
ered by treating the residue in what was 
called an ash furnace. The process is still 
resorted to in places where no furnaces are 
within reach. But wherever mines are open- 
ed that promise sufficient supplies of ore, 
furnaces are soon constructed in their vicini- 
ty. Those in use are of two sorts : the 
Scotch hearth and the reverberatory. Besides 
these, another small furnace is often built 
for melting over the slags. This is little 
else than a crucible built in brick-work, and 
arranged for the blast to enter by an aper- 
ture in the back, and for the metal to flow 
out by another opening in front. 

The Scotch hearth is a small blast furnace, 
but resembles the open forge or bloomary 
fire for iron ores. It has long been in use in 
Europe, and is the most common furnace at 
our own mines. In this country it has been 
greatly improved by the introduction of hot 
blast ; and in its most perfect form is rep- 
resented in the accompanying figures ; figure 
a being a vertical section from front to back, 
and figure b a horizontal section. 




SCOTCH HEARTH FURNACE. 



A is the reservoir of lead of the furnace, 
consisting of a box, open at top, about two 
feet square and one foot deep, formed of 
cast iron 2 inches thick. From its upper 
front edge a sloping hearth, H, is fixed so as 



to receive the melted lead that overflows, 
and conduct it by the groove into the basin, 
B. In this it is kept in a melted state by a 
little fire beneath, and, as convenient, the lead 
is ladled out and poured into moulds. D is 
a hollow shell of cast iron J of an inch thick, 
its inner and outer sides inclosing a space of 
4 inches width. - Into this space the blast is 
introduced at E, and becoming heated, 
passes out at F, and thence through the 
curved pipe into a tuyere, T, cast in the air- 
chest 2 inches above the level of the lead 
reservoir. Before commencing operations 
this reservoir is to be filled with lead, and is 
thus kept so long as the furnace is in use ; 
the process being conducted upon the sur- 
face of the melted metal. The furnace may 
be kept in continual operation by adding 
new charges of galena every ten or fifteen 
minutes, and working them down after they 
have become roasted at the surface. The 
fuel employed is dry pine wood split into 
small pieces, and billets of these are thrown 
in against the tuyere just before each new 
charge of ore, that already in the furnace 
being raked forward upon the hearth to 
make room for the fuel, and the blast being 
temporarily turned ofi". The old charge is 
then thrown, together with fresh ore, upon 
the wood, and the blast is let on, when the 
heat and flame immediately spread through 
the materials. The sulphur in the ore serves 
itself as fuel, accelerating the process by its 
combustion, and in a few minutes the 
whole charge is stirred up, spread out on the 
hearth, and the hard, unreduced fragments 
are broken in pieces by blows of the shovel. 
Slaked lime is sometimes added in small 
quantity when the partially reduced ore be- 
comes too soft and pasty by excess of heat. 
Its eff'ect is to lessen this tendency rather by- 
mechanical than chemical action. If any 
flux is used, it is fluor spar, blacksmith's 
cinders, or bits of iron. The latter hasten 
the reduction by the affinity of the iron for 
the sulphur of the ore. The cast iron of the 
air-chest is protected from the action of the 
sulphur by the cooling influence of the air 
blown in ; and this is also advantageous by 
its keeping the furnace from becoming so 
hot, that the galena would melt before losing 
its sulj)liur, and thus form combinations of 
exceedingly difficult reduction. A fan, run 
by steam or water power, is commonly em- 
ployed for raising the blast ; but as this gives 
little pressure, it is replaced to great advan- 
tage by blowing cylinders, with an air- 



89 



receiver for giving regularity to the current 
of air. With such an apparatus, the smehcr 
can apply the blast with great advantage at 
times to help loosen up the charge and 
throw the llanie tlirough every part of it. 
The ores are prepared tor smelting by sep- 
arating from them all the stony and clayey 
particles, and as much as possible of the 
blende and other impurities that may ac- 
company them. This may require a succes- 
sion of mechanical processes, in which the 
ores are crushed to line fragments and dress- 
ed bv jigging and screening under Avater. 
Not only is the labor and cost of smelting re- 
duced by the purity of the ore, and espe- 
cially its freedom from blende and pyrites, 
but the quality also of the metal is thereby 
improved. Lead that contains iron is not 
adapted for the manufacture of white-load. 
The American metal being generally free 
from this brings a higher price than Spanish 
or English lead. With pure ore a cord of 
wood may be made to produce four tons of 
lead ; and each furnace Y,500 lbs. every 24 
hours ; a smelter and his assistant managing 
the operation for 12 hours. At Rossie 
large quantities of lead have thus been 
smelted at a daily cost for labor of $5, and 
for fuel of 61.50, making $1.15 per ton. In 
Wisconsin, before the use of the hot blast, 
each furnace-shift was continued from 8 to 10 
hours, until 30 pigs of lead were produced 
of 2,100 U)s. weight, at an expense of about 
'$4 for labor, and §1.50 for fuel. 

The other form of furnace — the rever- 
beratoiy — resembles others of this class em- 
ployed in smelting copper ores. The sole, 
or hearth, upon which the ores are spread, is 
about 8 feet in length by 6 in breadth, and 
is made to incline rapidly toward an aper- 
ture on one side, or at the end under the 
chimney, and out of which the lead is 
albjwed at the end of each smelting to 
flow into a receiver outside. The charge is 
supplied either through a hopper in the 
arched roof, or through the holes in the 
sides, which also serve for admitting the 
pokers used by the workmen to stir up the 
charge. Unless the galena has been pre- 
viously calcined or roasted — a process neces- 
sary for poor ores only — this is the first 
thing to be attended to in all the smelting 
operations. In the large charge of 30 cwt. 
of ore this usually takes the first two hours 
of the process, ami is effected in great part 
by the heat remaining in the furnace from 
the preceding operation, the doors at the 



sides being kept open at the same time to al- 
low free access of air. The oxidation of the 
sulphur is expedited by almost constant 
stirring of the charge, Avhicli brings fresh 
portions to the surface, causing an evolution 
of white fumes. As these begin to diminish, 
the fire is started on the grate, and the heat 
is raised till the charge softens and the pieces 
of ore adhere to the rake. The doors are 
then closed, and the fire is urged for a 
quarter of an hour, when the smelter opens 
the door to see if the metal separates and 
flows down the inclined hearth. If the sep- 
aration does not go on well, it is hastened 
l)y opening one of the doors, partially cool- 
ing the furnace, and stirring the charge. The 
fire is then again urged. If the slags which 
form seem to require it, he treats them with 
a few shovelfuls of lime and fine c<>al ; and 
when, after having flowed down into the 
lower portion of the hearth, they are 
brought into a doughy consistency, the 
smelter pushes the slag to the opposite upper 
edge of the hearth, from which it is taken 
out through a door on that side by his as- 
sistant, while he lets oft' the lead into the 
receiver. 

The separation by this method is not so 
perfect as by the Scotch hearth, and the 
expense of fuel is greater ; but the reverbe- 
ratory is worked without the necessity of 
steam or water power, which is required to 
raise the blast for the other process. The 
slags of the reverberatory contain so much 
lead that they are always remelted in the 
slag furnace. Those of the Scotch hearth, 
when pure ores are employed, are sufliciently 
clear of metal without further reduction. In 
Europe other sorts of furnaces are in use, 
which are adapted particularly for ores of 
poorer quality than are ever smelted in the 
United States, 

In the Ilartz mountains, at Clausthal, 
argentiferous silver ores containing much 
silica are worked in close cupola furnaces, 
into which only enough air is admitted to 
consume the fuel. The object is not to 
roast out the sulphur, but to cause this to 
combine with the granulated cast iron or 
with the (juick-lime, either of which is mixed 
with the orcis to flux them and form a fusible 
compound with the sulphur, thnuigh which 
the metallic lead can easily find its way to 
the bottom. The production of a silicate of 
lead is thus avoided, which is a difficult 
compound to reduce, and is always formed 
when much silica is present. This process 



90 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



will probably be applied to some of the si- 
licious ores of the United States, and may 
be particularly suited to the Washoe ores of 
California. 

By all the methods of reducing lead a 
great loss is incurred by the volatilization of 
a portion of the lead in white fumes, called 
lead ashes. These are carried up through 
the chimney of the furnace and fall upon 
the ground in the neighborhood, poisoning 
the vegetation and the water by the carbon- 
ate of lead, which results from the fumes. 
Trees even are killed, and the dogs die off, 
and also the cattle. In Scotland the lead 
has been detected in chemical examinations 
of the bodies of animals thus killed, and it 
was particularly noticeable in the spleen. 
For the injury thus occasioned at the fur- 
naces of the United States no remedy has 
been applied, but at many of the great es- 
tablishments in Europe, where the loss of 
lead and the damage to the neighborhood 
is much more serious, attempts have been 
made to arrest the fumes, by causing them 
to pass through long flues in the chimney 
stacks, in which the particles on cooling 
would settle down; and their cooling has 
been hastened by showers of water falling 
among the vapors. Flues have been extended 
great distances beyond the works, and have 
been found much more efficient than any 
form of condensation by sudden cooling. 
Some of the works constructed for this pur- 
pose are very remarkable for their great 
extent and the saving they have effected, 
and similar ones may perhaps be found well 
worthy of construction at some of the smelt- 
ing establishments in the United States. x\t 
the works of Mr. Beaumont, in Northum- 
berland, England, horizontal or slightly in- 
clined galleries have been completed in stone- 
work, 8 feet high and 6 feet wide, for an 
extent of 8,789 yards (nearly five miles). 
This is from one mill alone. The same pro- 
prietor has connected with other mills in 
the same district and in Durham four miles 
of galleries for the same purpose. The 
writer who gives the account of these in the 
recent edition of Urc's Dictionary, by Rob- 
ert Hunt, remarks: "The value of the 
lead thus saved from being totally dissipated 
and dispersed, and obtained from what in 
common parlance might be called chimney 
sweepings, considerably exceeds £10,000 
sterling annually, and forms a striking illus- 
tration of the importance of economizing 
our waste products." Not only is lead lost 



in the fumes, but in the working of argentif- 
erous lead ores, a portion of the silver too 
is carried off and deposited with them. The 
fumes collected at the works of the Duke 
of Buccleuch yield one-third their weight of 
lead, and five ounces of silver to the ton. The 
loss of silver is of little importance in this 
country, where this metal is not obtained at 
the present time, unless it be at the Wash- 
ington mine, in North Carolina, and at the 
Washoe mines, in California; and conse- 
quently methods of separating it from the 
lead possess little more than scientific interest. 
In the smelting of argentiferous lead ores, 
the silver goes with the lead, being com- 
pletely dissolved and diffused throughout its 
substance. The usual way of separating it is 
founded on the principle of the lead being a 
metal easily oxidized and converted into the 
substance called litharge, in which condi- 
tion it lets go the silver, which has no affinity 
either for the new compound of oxygen and 
lead, or for the oxygen alone. The change 
is effected by melting the lead in the shallow 
basins called cupels, formed of a porous 
earthy material, as the pulverized ashes of 
burned bones, kneaded with water, and 
mixed in a framework of iron. When dried, 
these are set in a reverberatory furnace, and 
the pigs of lead are melted upon their sur- 
face. After being thoroughly heated, a cur- 
rent of air is made to draw through an open- 
ing in the side of the furnace directly upon 
the face of the melted metal. This oxidizes 
the lead, and the yellow litharge with more 
or less red oxide, called minium, collects in 
a thin film upon its surface, and floats off to 
the edge, sinking into and incrusting the 
cupel and falling over its side into a recep- 
tacle placed to receive it. This process goes 
on, the lead gradually disappearing as the 
oxygen combines with it, till with the re- 
moval of the last films of oxide the melted 
silver suddenly presents its brilliant, perfectly 
unsullied face. The oxide of lead may be 
collected and sold for the purposes of 
litharge, as for a pigment, for use in the 
manufacture of glass, etc. ; or it may be 
mixed with fine coal and converted back 
into lead, the carbon of the coal effecting 
this change by the greater afiinity it has at 
a high heat for the oxygen, than the lead has 
to retain it. By this process, known as 
cupcllation, lead is hardly worth treating for 
silver, unless it contain about 10 ounces to 
the ton of the precious metal ; and it was 
therefore an important object to devise a 



LEAD. 



91 



method of saving with economy the silver 
lost in the large quantities of the poorer 
argentiferous leads. Such a method was 
accidentally discovered in 1829 by Mr, 
Pattinson, of Newcastle, and is now exten- 
sively in use in Europe for the poorer silver- 
leads, cupellation being preferred for the 
richer. He observed that when the lead 
containing silver forms crystals, as it is 
stirred while in a melted state, the crystals 
contain little or none of the silver, and may 
be removed, thus concentrating the silver 
in the portions left beliind. This crystal- 
lizing process is applietl in the large way as 
follows : Cast iron pots are set in brick- 
work side by side, capable of holding each 
one 4 or 5 tons of lead. The middle one 
is first charged, and when the lead is melted 
and stirred, the fire is removed under the 
next pot to the right ; and into this crystals 
of lead as they form arc ladled by means of 
a sort of cullender, which lets the fluid lead 
fall back. This instrument is kept hotter 
than the lead by frequently dipping it in a 
pot of lead over a separate fire. When four- 
fifths of the lead have been transferred to 
the pot to the right, the remainder, which 
contains all the silver, is removed to the next 
pot to the left, and the middle pot is then 
charged with fresh lead, which is treated in 
the same manner. The process is repeated 
with each pot, as it becomes full, four-fifths 
of its contents going to the next pot to the 
right, and one-fifth to the next to the left, 
and thus the lead is finally discharged into 
moulds at one end, and the argentiferous 
alloy, concentrated to the richness of 300 
ounces of silver to the ton, is run into bars 
about 2 inches square. From these the 
silver is obtained by cupellation. At one 
establishment in England, that of Messrs. 
Walker, Parker & Co., the weekly product 
of silver is from 8,000 to 10,000 ounces. 
Whenever the lead mines of the eastern 
states are made to yield regular returns of 
lea<], the separation of its silver is likely to 
be carried on in independent establishments, 
supplied like the copper-smelting works with 
material from various sources. Works hav- 
ing these objects in view were established 
in the fall of 1860, at Brooklyn, New York, 
by Messrs. Bloodgood & Ambler, and will 
Commence operations with the smelting of 
the Washoe silver-lead ores from California, 
of M hich over sixty tons have been delivered 
at the works for reduction. Their success- 
ful treatment will no doubt be followed by 
6* 



the shipment of other ores of the different 
metals from various sources ; and it is to be 
hoped that it will hereafter be found more 
advantageous to send ores to New York to 
be reduced, than to the smelting establish- 
ments on the other side of the Atlantic. 

Useful Applications of Lead. — A con- 
siderable part of the lead product of the world 
is converted into the carbonate, known as? 
white lead, and used as a paint. The prin- 
cipal articles of metallic lead are sheet lead, 
lead pipe, and shot. Sheet lead is manu- 
factured in two ways. The melted lead is 
upset from a trough suspended over a per- 
fectly level table, covered with fine sand, and 
furnished with a raised margin ; and when 
the metal has spread over this, a couple of 
workmen, one on each side, cany along a 
bar supported upon the margin, pushing 
forward the excess of lead above that neces- 
sary for the required thickness, till it falls 
over the end of the table. By the other 
method, called milling, the lead is cast in a 
plate, 6 or 7 feet square, and 6 inches thick, 
and this being taken up by a crane, is placed 
upon a line of wooden rollers, which form 
a flooring for the length it may be of 70 or 
80 feet and a width of 8 feet. Across the mid- 
dle of this line are set the two heavy iron 
rolls by which the lead plate is compressed, 
as it is passed between them. The top of 
the lower roll is on a level with the top of 
the wooden rollers, and the upper roll is so 
arranged that it can be set nearer to or further 
from the lower one, as the thickness of the 
plate requires. 

Lead pipe was formerly made by turning 
up sheet lead and soldering the edges ; and 
is still prepared in this way for the large 
sizes, as those over six inches diameter. Af- 
ter this a method was contrived of casting, 
the lead in a hollow cylindrical plug, it* 
inner diameter of the bore required, and then 
drawing this down through slightly conical 
dies of decreasing diameter, a mandril or 
steel rod being inserted to retain the uniform; 
diameter of the bore. Pipes made in this 
way were limited to 15 to 18 feet in length, 
and the metal was full of flaws. Many at- 
tempts have been made to cast long lengths 
of lead pipe, all of which have proved unsuc- 
cessful. In 1820 Thomas Burr, of Englandy 
first applied the hydraulic press to forcing 
lead, when beginning to solidify in cooling,, 
through an annular space between a hollow 
ring and a solid core secured in its centre. 
He thus produced pipes of considerable 



92 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



lengtli. The method of forcing the liquid 
metal throiio-li dies to form pipes was, how- 
ever, first patented in 1797 by Bramah, who 
used a pump for this purpose. The process 
was introduced into this country in 1840-41 
by iMessrs. Tatliam & Brothers, now of New 
York, who invented and patented an impor- 
tant improvement in the method of secur- 
ing- the die and core. In this operation the 
melted lead is made to flow from the furnace 
into a cylindrical cavity in a block of cast 
iron, which may be of 1800 lbs. weight, and 
from this, when cooled to the proper tem- 
perature, it is forced out through the die by 
a closely-fitting piston. By one process the 
piston, starting from the bottom of the cylin- 
drical cavity, moves upward, carrying with it 
the slender core or rod which determines the 
diameter of the bore of the pipe, and pushes 
the melted lead before it through the die 
fixed in the top of the cast iron block. The 
pipe as it is formed passes out from the top 
of the machine, and is coiled around a re- 
ceiving drum. By the machine contrived by 
Mr. Cornell of New York, the great iron 
block containing the lead rises by the press- 
ure of the hydraulic machine, and the piston 
which is fixed above it enters the cavity. 
The piston in this case is hollow and the die 
is set in its lower end. The core is secured 
in the bottom of the block, and is carried 
upward as this rises. The pressure applied 
in this operation amounts to 200 to 300 tons. 
Dies are used of a great variety of sizes, accord- 
ing to the kind of pipe required. Lead wire 
is made in this way Avith a die of very small 
size without a core. It is used for securing 
vines and attaching tags to fruit trees and 
shrubs. The principal works in the United 
States engaged in the manufacture of sheet 
lead and lead pipe are in New York, Boston, 
Philadelphia, Chicago, Cincinnati, and Saint 
Louis. 

Lead pipe is in general use as the most 
convenient conduit for water for domestic 
purposes. It is readily bent to any angle, 
and is made to adapt itself to any position. 
When water freezes within and bursts it, the 
damage is easily repaired ; joints are also 
made with little trouble. The lead is not 
liable to become rusty like iron, and is 
cheaper than tin or copper. These qualities 
give to it a preference over other kinds of 
pipe, notwithstanding the very serious objec- 
tion that the lead is often acted upon by the 
water, and ])roduces poisonous salts of a very 
dangerous character. Some waters more than 



others have a tendency to promote the oxid- 
ation of the lead. This is particularly likely 
to occur with nearly all waters in pipes Avhich 
arc alternately exposed to the action of air 
and water, as when the water being drawn 
out, the air enters and takes its place. The 
oxide of lead is converted by carbonic acid 
gas, which is present in almost all water, into 
a carbonate of lead which is soluble to some 
extent in an excess of the gas, and is carried 
along, bearing no indication of its presence, 
while the lead pipe continues to be corroded 
until it may be in places eaten nearly through. 
The water used for drinking and for culinary 
purposes is thus continually introducing an 
insidious poison into the system, the effect 
of which is at last experienced in the disease 
known as the painters' colic, often followed 
by paralysis. As this occurs without a sus- 
picion being awakened of the real source of 
the disease, and is produced by quantities so 
small as from yL to ^V of a grain in the gal- 
lon, the use of lead pipe is properly regard- 
ed by scientific men as always unsafe ; and 
some substitute for this metal in pipes and 
in sheets used for lining water cisterns, is 
highly desirable. It has been proposed to 
coat the pipe with some insoluble lining; 
but such an application necessarily increases 
its cost, it may perhaps be removed by hot 
water flowing through the pipe, and the pur- 
chaser may have no confidence in the coating 
being faithfully applied, or as certain to be 
efficient during long-continued use. Block 
tin is perfectly safe, but it is expensive, and 
is moreover likely to be alloyed with the 
cheaper metal lead, which in this condition 
is thought to be equally dangerous as when 
used alone. As no popular substitute for 
lead is provided, it is a reasonable precaution 
for those employing it to be always watchful 
and on their guard against its evil effects — 
using as little of it as necessary, causing the 
water to be occasionally tested, and, when- 
ever opportunity offers, cutting open and ex- 
amining pieces of the pipe to see whether its 
internal surface is corroded, and every morn- 
ing before using the Avater that has stood in 
the pipes, to cause this to flow away to- 
gether with enough more to thoroughly wash 
out the pipes and remove any salts of lead 
that may have formed in them during the 
night. 

Large quantities of lead are consumed in 
the United States in the manufacture of shot 
and bullets; and one ingenious method of 
producing shot is an American invention. 



LEAD. 



93 



The quality of the lead employed for this 
purpose is of little importance. The harder 
and inferior sorts, which would not answer 
for the white lead manufacture, are economi- 
cally diverted to this object. If too brittle, 
from the iron and antimony combined with 
the lead, the metal is made to assume the right 
quality by mixinn; with it a small proportion 
of arsenic, which, for most kinds of lead, 
may amount to one per cent. To introduce 
this into the lead a large pot of the metal is 
melted, and powdered charcoal or ashes is 
laid around its edge. The arsenical com- 
pound, either of white arsenic or of orpi- 
ment (the sulphuret of arsenic), is then stir- 
red into the centre of the mass, and a cover 
is tightly luted over the pot. In the course 
of a few hours, the mixture being kept hot, 
the combination of the lead with the arsenic 
is completed, and a portion of litharge floats 
upon the surface. This is formed from the 
oxygen of the white arsenic uniting with 
some of the lead, and it retains a portion of 
the arsenic. The alloy is now tried by let- 
ting a small quantity of it fall from a mod- 
erate height through a strainer into water. 
From the appearance of the globules the 
quality of the mixture is judged of. If 
ttiey are lens-shaped, too nnich arsenic has 
been used ; but if they are flattened on the 
side, or hollowed in the middle, or drag with 
a tail behind them, the proportion of arsenic 
is too small. AVhen a proper mixture is ob- 
tained it is run into bars, and these are taken 
to the top of a tower, from 100 to 200 feet 
high, where the lead is melted and poured 
through cullenders, which are kept hot by 
being placed in a sort of chafing-dish con- 
taining burning charcoal. The lead is thus 
divided into drops that fall to the bottom, 
and are received in a vessel of water. Each 
cullender has holes all of the same size, which 
is considerably less than that of the shot 
produced by them. This is owing to the 
drop of melted lead first assuming an elon- 
gated form, which is concentrated into the 
globular by the air impinging equally upon 
all sides in the course of its descent. AVhen 
it reaches the water, it is important that it 
should have cooled throughout, so that no. 
solid crust be suddenly formed over a fluiil 
interior; and hence, for large shot it is evi- 
dent the height of the fall must be greater 
than is required for small shot. The tem- 
perature of the lead also, when it is dropped, 
must vary according to the size of the shot; 
for the largest size being so low that a straw 



is hardly browned when thrust into it. A 
portion of the lead becomes oxidized and is 
caught in the cullender, the bottom of which 
it coats, and serves a useful purpose by 
checking the too rapid flow of the melted 
lead through the holes. The holes vary 
in size, from — of an inch for shot larger 
than No. 1, to -^^-^ of an inch for No. 9. 
The shot being taken out of the water and 
dried upon the surface of a long steam chest, 
are transferred to an iron cask suspended 
upon an axis passing through its ends, and 
a little plumbago being introduced with 
tliem, the cask is made to revolve until the 
shot are thoroughly cleaned and polished. 
The next operation is to separate the imper- 
fect ones from the good. This is done by 
rolling them all together down a succession 
of inclined platforms, separated by a narrow 
space between each. The good shot clear 
these spaces and are caught below, while the 
bad ones fell through upon the floor. The 
good are then introduced into the sifters for 
assorting them according to their sizes. 
Several sieves are arranged like drawers in a 
case ; the coarsest above, and finer ones suc- 
ceeding below. The upper tier of sieves be- 
ing charged, the case is set rocking, and the 
shot are soon assorted, and are then ready for 
packing in bags. Bullets and buck-shot are 
moulded by hand from a large pot of the 
metal into moulds with many receptacles. 

The American process of shot-making was 
invented in 1848 by David Smith, of the 
firm of T. 0. Leroy & Co., of New York, 
by whom it is exclusively used. Its object 
is to dispense with the use of the costly high 
towers, by substituting for them a lower fall 
against an ascending current of air. This 
current is produced by a fan-blower operat- 
ing at the base of an upright hollow shaft 
into which the shot are dropped from a 
moderate height. The power required to 
run the fan is not much more than that or- 
dinarily expended in raising the lead to the 
top of the high towers ; and it is found that 
the lead, in consequence of its being more 
rapidly and equally cooled in the short de- 
scent against the current of air, may be used 
at a higher temperature than is practicable 
with that dropped from high towers ; and 
thus it may not only be poured more rapidly, 
l)ut it has not the tendency to burst in falling 
and form imperfect shot, as is the case with 
that dropped from high towers, to guard 
against which the lead is kept at a low tem- 
perature. 



94 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



There are in New York city, besides this 
operation, which is carried on by Messrs. 
Leroy, in Water street, three shot towers, 
and a fourth is nearly completed on Staten 
Island. The ordinary capacity of these is 
from 3000 to 4000 tons of shot per annum. 
The annual shot production of St. Louis is 
about the same as that of New York, though 
there is now only one shot tower in use. 
There were formerly seven more on the river 
bluffs below the city, but these have hardly 
been used since 1847. In Baltimore is a 
tower the height of which, including ten 
feet constructed below the surface of the 
ground, is 256 feet, which exceeds by one 
foot the height of the famous tower in Vi- 
enna, described by Dr. Ure as the highest 
structure of the kind in the world, being 
249 feet above the surface of the ground. 
Its production is stated to be about 400 
tons per annum. In Philadelphia there is 
one tower Avhich makes about 300 tons an- 
nually ; in Wythe county, Virginia, is one 
formed in one of the shafts of the mine, 
making about 200 tons; and on the Wis- 
consin river, at Helena, is a small tower 
probably making about as much more. The 
actual production of the country in shot and 
bullets is supposed to be about 7000 tons, 
and to have made but little advance for 
many years past. 

White Lead. — Before the introduction 
of the oxide of zinc as a paint, one of the 
most important uses of lead was its conver- 
sion into the carbonate or white lead. The 
manufacture was originally carried on almost 
exclusively in Holland ; and it was not until 
near the close of the last century that it was 
introduced into England. In the United 
States it was unknown until after the war of 
1812, and bemg first undertaken in Philadel- 
phia, it was afterward extended to New York 
and Brooklyn, and in the latter city has pros- 
pered more than in any other part of the 
country. Various attempts have been made 
to introduce new methods of manufacture, but 
the old Dutch process has continued in gen- 
eral use ; the modifications of it which have 
raised the manufacture in this country to a 
higher state of perfection than in any other 
part of the world being merely improve- 
ments in the details, by which ingenious 
machinery has been made to diminish the 
labor expended in the process. 

White lead is a combination of oxide of 
lead with carbonic acid, and is obtained in 
the form of a soft, very white, and heavy 



powder. It mixes readily with oil, giving 
to it a drying property, spreads well under 
the brush, and perfectly covers the surfaces 
to which it is applied. It is not only em- 
ployed alone as the best sort of white paint, 
but is the general material or body of a great 
number of paints, the colors of which are 
produced by mixing suitable coloring mat- 
ters with the white lead. Besides its use as 
a paint it is also in demand to a considerable 
extent as an ingredient in the so-called vul- 
canized india-rubber. To prepare it, the 
purest pig lead, such as the refined foreign 
lead and the metal from the upper mines of 
the Mississippi, is almost exclusively used. 
This was by the old methods made in thin 
sheets, and these into small rolls, to be sub- 
jected to the chemical treatment. But ac- 
cording to the American method devised by 
Mr. Augustus Graham of Brooklyn, and now 
generally adopted, the lead is cast into cir- 
cular gratings or "buckles," which closely 
resemble in form the large old-fashioned 
shoe-buckles, from which they receive their 
name. They are six or eight inches in di- 
ameter, and the lead hardly exceeds one 
sixth of an inch in thickness. Ingenious 
methods of casting them are in use in the 
American factories, by which the lead is run 
upon moulds directly from the furnace, and 
the buckles are separated from each other 
and delivered without handling into the 
vessels for receiving them. They are then 
packed in earthen pots shaped like flower- 
pots, each of which is provided with a 
"ledge or three projecting points in the in- 
side, intended to keep the pieces above the 
bottom, in which is placed some strong vine- 
gar or acetic acid. It is recommended that 
on one side the pot should be partially open 
above the ledge, and if made full all round, 
it is well to knock out a piece in order to 
admit a freer circulation of vapors through 
the lead. In large establishments an im- 
mense supply of these pots is kept on hand, 
the number at the single manufactory of 
Messrs. Battelle & Renwick, on the Hudson, 
being not less than 200,000. They con- 
tinue constantly in use till accidentally 
broken below the ledge. Being packed 
close together in rows upon a bed of spent 
tan, a foot to two feet thick, and thin sheets 
of lead are laid among and over the pots in 
several thicknesses, but always so as to leave 
open spaces among them. An area is thus 
covered, it may be twenty feet square or 
of less dimensions, and is enclosed by board 



LEAD. 



95 



partitions, whicli, upon suitable framework, 
can be carried up twenty-five feet hiijb if 
required. When the pots and the inter- 
stices anionsT them are well packed with 
lead, a floorino^ of boards is laid over tliem, 
and upon this is spread anotlier layer of 
tan ; and in the same manner eight or ten 
courses are built up, containing;; in all, it may 
be, 12,000 pots and 50 or 60 tons of lead, 
all of which are buried beneath an upper 
layer of tan. As the process of conversion 
requires from eight to twelve weeks, the 
large factories have a succession of these 
stacks which are charged one after another, 
so that when the process is completed in 
one, and the pots and lead have been re- 
moved and the chamber is recharged, anoth- 
er is ready for the same opeiation. 

The conversion of metallic lead into car- 
bonate is induced by the fermenting action, 
which commences in the tan soon after the 
pile is completed. The heat thus generated 
evaporates the vinegar, and the vapors of 
water and acetic acid i-ising among the lead 
oxidize its surface and convert it externally 
into a subacetate of lead; at the same time 
carbonic acid evolved from the tan circulates 
among the lead and transforms the acetate 
into carbonate of the oxide, setting the 
acetic acid free to renew its office upon 
fresh surfaces of lead. When the tan ceases 
to ferment the process is at an end, and the 
stack may then be taken to pieces. The 
lead is found in its original forms, but of 
increased bulk and weight, and more or less 
completely converted into the white carbo- 
nate. The thoroughness of the operation 
depends upon a variety of circwmstanccs ; 
even the weather and season of the year 
having an influence upon it. The pieces 
not entirely converted have a core of me- 
tallic or " blue" lead beneath the white car- 
bonate crust. The separation is made by 
beating off the white portion, and this being 
done upon perforated copper shelves set in 
large wooden tanks and covered with water, 
the escape of the fine metallic dust is entire- 
ly prevented and its noxious effect upon 
the health of the workmen is avoided. In 
Europe, rolling machines closely covered 
arc applied to the same purpose, but less 
effectually. The wliite lead thus collected 
is next ground with water between mill- 
stones to a thin paste, and by repeated 
grindings and washings this is reduced to 
an impalpable consistency. The water is 
next to be removed, and, according to the 



European plan, the creamy mixture is next 
turned into caithen pots, and these are ex- 
posed upon shelves to a temperature not ex- 
ceeding SW until perfectly dry. Instead 
of this laborious method, the plan is adopted 
in the American works of employing shal- 
low pans of sheet copper, provided with a 
false bottom, beneath which steam from the 
exhaust-pipe of the engine is admitted to 
promote evaporation. These pans or " dry- 
ing kilns" arc sometimes 100 feet long and 
6 feet broad, and several are set in the build- 
ing one above another. The liquid lead 
paste is pumped up into large tanks, and th6 
heavier portion settling down, is drawn off" 
into the pans, while the thinner liquid from 
the surface is returned to be mixed with 
fresh portions of white lead. Beside pans, 
tile tables heated by flues in the masonry of 
which they arc built, are also employed. 
From four to six days are required for thor- 
oughly drying the white lead. This is the 
finishing process, after which the lead is 
ready for packing in small casks for the 
market. 

The manufacture of white lead, which 
was formerly an unhealthy and even dan- 
gerous occupation, has been so much im- 
proved by the expedients for keeping the 
material wet and thus preventing the rising 
of the fine dust, that the peculiar lead dis- 
ease now rarely attacks the workmen. The 
business is conducted altogether upon a large 
scale, and gives employment to numerous 
extensive factories in different parts of the 
country. Souk; of these have arrangements 
for converting-stacks that extend under cover 
200 feet in length, and their facilities for 
grinding and drying are proportionally ex- 
tensive. These, and the time required for 
fully completing the process and getting the 
white lead ready for market — which is from 
three to four months — involve the use of 
large capital and tend to keep the business 
in few hands. 

There is a vastly increasing demand for 
pure white lead, and the competition and 
watchfulness of the trade insure the gen- 
uineness of the article thus warranted by 
the manufacturers. A large class of cus- 
tomers are the grinders, who form a distinct 
trade, and use and mix the j)ure article with 
other substances and with coloring matters 
to suit their purposes. The mineral, sul- 
phate of barytcs or heavy spar, is the chief 
article used to adulterate white lead, and for 
this purpose it is obtained from mines in 



96 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



Connecticut and other places, and is exten- 
sively ground in mills for this use alone. 
When perfectly pure, the powder is abso- 
lutely white ; it has about the same weight 
as white lead, and is quite as indestructible ; 
it is, indeed, less acted upon or discolored 
by noxious vapors. It lacks, however, the 
body of white lead, and is not so brilliant * 
and whenever used in any proportion ma- 
terially injures the paint in those good 
qualities. Oxide of zinc is also largely mix- 
ed with white lead, as will be noticed more 
particularly in the succeeding chapter. 

The principal white lead works, together 
with the probable ainount of their annual 
production, in the United States are as 
follows : — 

No. of Works. Tons. 

Brooklyn, N. Y 4 8000 

Stateii Island, N. Y 1 1 500 

Hudson River (Saugerties), N. Y.. 1 1500 

Buftalo, N. Y 1 600 

Philadelphia, Ta 3 3500 

Pittshnrg, P.a 5 4000 

Baltimore, Md 1 600 

Boston, Mass 1 1000 

Salem, Mass 1 1500 

Cincinnati, 2 1500 

Louisville, Ky 1 "00 

Chicago, 111 2 1200 

St Louis, Mo 3 4U00 



CHAPTER V. 

ZINC. 

While the production of the lead mines 
has been falling off in the United States, 
that of the zinc mines has been steadily in- 
creasing since they were first worked about 
twenty years since ; and the metal is applied 
to some purposes for which lead has heretofore 
been almost exclusively used. The growing 
importance of this product in the United 
States will justify a reference to the zinc 
manufacture of Europe. 

The metal, as mentioned in the chapter 
on Copper, very curiously escaped the no- 
tice of the ancients, though they obtained it 
from its ores in preparing brass, an alloy of 
copper and zinc. In the metallurgical proc- 
esses it is readily sublimed by heat, and 
when its fumes come in contact with the air 
they are immediately oxidized, burning with 
a greenish white flame, and are then con- 
verted into the Avhite oxide of zinc — a com- 
pound of one equivalent of the metal = 34, 
and one of oxygen = 8 ; which correspond 



respectively to 81 and 9 per cent. These 
fumes when collected are found to be a 
white flocculent powder, now known as the 
white oxide of zinc, or zinc paint. If the 
vapor of zinc be protected from contact 
of air and passed through pipes into water, 
it is condensed into metallic drops, and 
these may be melted in close vessels and 
poured into moulds. Cast zinc is a brittle 
metal of bluish white color and greater lus- 
tre than that of lead. By heating it to the 
temperature of 212° to 300'^ F. it entirely 
loses its brittleness, and is made malleable 
and ductile, so that it can be rolled out into 
sheets. Its melting point is 680", while 
that of lead is G08'^. 

A variety of ores are worked for this 
metal ; as the sulphuret, called blende ; the 
carbonate, called smithsonite ; and the sil- 
icate of zinc, or calamine. The last two 
usually occur associated together. The red 
oxide is an important ore, but found only in 
New Jersey. Blende almost universally ac- 
companies galena, and in some lead mines 
is the prevailing ore. The miners call it 
black jack. When pure, it consists of zinc 
67, sulphur 33. Being more difficult to re- 
duce than the other ores, it has been com- 
paratively little used, though the Chinese 
are known to have been successful in their 
management of it. In the United States it 
lies valueless in immense quantities about 
many of the lead mines; but it is not improb- 
able the old refuse heaps will yet be turned to 
profit. At the zinc works near Swansea, in 
Wales, it has been worked for many years ; 
and in England it has for a few years past 
come into use. In 1855, it is reported that 
9620 tons of this ore from various mines 
were sold ; while of the calamine ores, the 
produce of the Alston Moor mines, sales of 
only 182 tons were reported. More ores 
of each sort were no doubt smelted, but the 
proportion of each was probably not very 
diflerent from that stated. Dr. Ure, in his 
Dictionary, speaks of this ore selling at 
Holywell for £3 per ton. In France there 
are now five establishments working blende ; 
while in 1840 all the zinc consumed in the 
country was imported. Smithsonite resem- 
bles some yellowish or whitish limestones, 
and usually accompanies these rocks, being 
irregularly bedded among their strata. In 
its best condition it is obtained in large 
blocks of botryoidal and reniform shapes, 
sometimes crystallized. But usually it is in 
porous crumbly masses, much mixed and 



ZINC. 



97 



stained with reddish oxide of iron. The 
pure ore contains Co per cent, of oxide of 
zinc (which is equivalent to 52 of tlie 
metal) and 35 of carbonic acid. The sili- 
cate of zinc is found intermixed with the 
carlionatc, which it resembles in appearance. 
It contains, when pure, silica 25.1, water 
7.5, and oxide of zinc 67.4, corresponding 
to 54 per cent, of the metal. The red ox- 
ide is found only at Mine Hill and Stirlinej 
Hill, near Franklin, in the extreme north- 
ern county of New Jersey. The pure oxide, 
of which it is almost exclusively composed, 
contains 80.26 percent, of zinc and 19.74 
of oxvixen. Tlie bright red color is probably 
derived from the small quantity of oxide of 
manganese present. The ore is mixed with 
franklinite iron ore, each being in distinct 
grains, one red and the other black ; and 
with these is associated a white crystalline 
limestone, either in disseminated grains with 
the ores, or forming the ground through 
which they are dispersed. Two beds, con- 
sisting of the zinc and iron ores, lie in con- 
tact with each other along the south-eastern 
slope of the Stirling Hill, between the lime- 
stone of the valley and the gneiss of the 
ridge, dipping with the slope of these rocks 
about 40" toward the valley, and ranging 
north-east and south-west. The upper bed, 
varying from 3 to 8 feet in thickness, con- 
sists of more than 50 per cent, red oxide 
of zinc; and the lower bed, which is 12 feet 
thick and in some places more than this, is 
chiefly franklinite, changing to limestone be- 
low, interspersed with imperfect crystals of 
franklinite. At Mine Hill, 1^ miles north- 
east from Stirling Hill, two distinct beds are 
again found together, that containing the 
most zinc in this case being the under one 
of the two, lying next the gneiss. These 
localities have been well explored ; the beds 
have been traced considerable distances 
along their line of outcrop ; and at Stirling 
Hill the red oxide of zinc has been mined 
for more than ten years by the New Jersey 
Zinc Con)pany. Their workings have reached 
to a depth of about 250 feet, and have af- 
forded the finest specimens of zinc ore c\cv 
seen. A single mass of the red oxide was 
sent in 1851 to the Great Exhibition in 
London, which weighed 16,400 lbs., and at- 
tracted no little attention, from the purity, 
rarity, and extraordinary size of the speci- 
men. The I'assaic Mining and Manufactur- 
ing Company also liave opened two beds of 
the same ore on their property at Stirling 



Hill, adjoining that of the New Jersey Zinc 
Company, and between 1854 and 18G0 took 
out about 30,000 tons of rich and lean ores. 
At the depth of 178 feet, the principal bed 
is 21 feet wide, of which about 2^- feet is 
rich ore, and the rest limestone sulficicntly 
interspersed with oxide of zinc to render ir, 
worth dressing. This company completed, 
in the year 1859, at the mines, very extens- 
ive works for dressing the lean ores before 
they are shipped to their furnaces at Jersey 
City. The principal supplies of their ores 
hitherto have been of the smithsonite and 
calamine from the mines in the Saucon val- 
ley, Lehigh county, Pennsylvania, of which 
they mined about 5,000 tons in the first 
year. These ores are extensively worked 
to the north of Friedensville, both by this 
company and the Pennsylvania and Le- 
high Zinc Company, whose furnaces are at 
Bethlehem, in Lehigh county. The mines 
of the two companies, which are near to- 
gether, are known as the Saucon mine and 
the Lehigh Zinc Company's mine. They 
were first opened in 1853. The two kinds 
of ore are found together, as is common in 
the European mines, and more or less blende 
is interspersed among them. They form 
very large irregular beds in limestone of the 
lower Silurian period, and are penetrated by 
veins of quartz, which traverse both the ore 
and limestone. Huge masses of limestone 
lie interspersed among the ores. The deep- 
est workings at the Saucon mine are about 
100 feet below the surface; and from this 
depth galleries have been run in every direc- 
tion, exposing to view more than 50,000 
tons of ore. The ores of best quality are 
found in the lower workings. 

About the same time that these mines 
were opened in Lehigh county, another, pro- 
ducing similar kinds of zinc ore, was dis- 
covered near Lancaster, in Pennsylvania; 
but after being explored it was found to 
contain so much blende and galena, that it 
was abandoned as worthless. Large de- 
posits of the same varieties of zinc ore are 
known to exist in Tennessee ; one locality 
at Mossy Creek, a few miles north-east of 
Knoxville, and another at Powell's river, a 
branch of the Clinch river, in Campbell 
county, about 40 miles north of Knoxville. 
These beds, examined by the writer in 1858, 
unquestionably contain very large quantities 
of excellent ore. The former, being close to 
the East Tennessee and Virginia railroad, 
is very conveniently situated ; and the other 



98 



MINING INDUSTRY OP THE UNITED STATES. 



is within half a mile of a river naviorable at 
certain seasons by flat-boats. Below its 
junction with the Clinch river are beds of 
bituminous coal, and the river is thence nav- 
igable by steamboats. At Kingston it is 
crossed by a railroad. 

Very pure ores of similar character liave 
been found in Arkansas. The localities are 
in a lead mining region in Lawrence, Marion, 
and Independence counties ; but chiefly in 
the first named. The ores occur in a forma- 
tion of, magnesian limestone, imbedded in 
red ferruginous clay. They are almost ex- 
clusively smithsonite, containing very small 
proportions of silicate of zinc. Crystals of 
smitliSDuite and of blende are found upon 
the lumps of pure, flesh-colored ore. The 
district promises to become an important one 
for the supply of zinc to the w'estern states. 

The following are analyses of ores from 
the Saucon valley mines ; the first three by 
Prof. John Torrey, of the New York Assay 
Ofiice, being of specimens, and the last two 
of samples of large shipments. No. 4 was 
made at the Assay Office, Hatton Gardens, 
London ; and No. 5 in Paris. 

No. 1. 

Oxide of zinc 48.90 

Carbonic acid 26 40 

Peroxide of iron 3.15 

Carbonate of magnesia 62 

Silica 18.50 

"Water 30 

Loss 2.13 

100.00 

Metallic zinc 39.30 

No. 2. — Granular Sulphur et of Zinc. 

Sulphuret of zinc 13.27 

Sulpliuret of iron 1.49 

Silica 25.50 

100.26 

Metallic zinc 49.09 

No. 3. — Waxy Sulphuret of Zinc. 

Sulphuret of zinc 97.63 

Sulphuret of iron 1.54 

Silica 1.40 

100.57 
Metallic zinc 65.41 

No. 4. — Mixture of Blende and Carbonate of Zinc. 

Zinc 61.70 

Sulphur 19.82 

Iron 4.76 

Silica 1.00 

Carbonic acid 9.90 

Phosphate of lime 88 

Oxygen, water, and loss 1.94 

100.00 
Contains of silver 4.15 ozs. to the ton of 20 cwt. 



No. 5. 

Zinc ^ 

Oxygen . . . . V Carbonate of zinc, 75.1 
Carbonic acid ) 
Protoxide of iron 
Carbonic acid 



iron ) 



Carb. of iron, 10.2 



42.0 

10.5 

22.6 

7.3 

2.9 



Silica 11.8 

Moisture 2.9 

100.0 
METALLURGIC TREATMENT AND USES. 

Zinc ores are applied to practical pur- 
poses, not only to produce the metal, but also 
the yvhlio, oxide of zinc, which is consider- 
ably used as a paint. The ancients used an 
ore they called lapis calaminaris, to make 
brass, by melting it with copper in cruci- 
bles, not knowing that another metal was 
thus formed which produced an alloy with 
the copper. Although the metal was dis- 
covered in the 16th century, the nature of 
its ores was little known before the middle 
of the last century. It is now prepared 
upon a large scale in Belgium and Silesia, 
and small quantities are produced in Eng- 
land, France, and difierent parts of Ger- 
many. The simple method of obtaining 
zinc from its ores, called distillation per de- 
scensum, was introduced into England about 
the year 1740, and was derived from the 
Chinese, who appear to have been acquainted 
with the metal long before it was known to 
the Europeans. As now practised in Great 
Britain, the ores are first calcined, the eft'ect 
of which is to expel a portion of the water, 
carbonic acid, and sulphur they contain. 
They are then ground to powder, and mixed 
with fine charcoal, or mineral coal, and in- 
troduced into stationary earthen pots, or 
crucibles. AVhen set in the furnace, an iron 
pipe, passing up through the bottom of the 
hearth, enters the crucible, and connects 
with an open vessel directly beneath. About 
six pots are set together under a low dome 
of brick-work, through which apertures are 
left for filling them. Each one has a cover, 
which is luted down with fire clay ; and the 
iron tube in each is stopped with a wooden 
plug,which, as the operation goes on, becomes 
charred and porous, so as to admit through it 
the passage of the zinc vapors. The tubes 
are prevented from being clogged with de- 
positions of the condensed zinc, by occa- 
sionally running a rod through them from 
the lower end. The zinc collects in the 
dishes under the tubes, in the form of drops 
and powder, a portion of which is oxidized. 
The whole is transferred to meltinir-pots. 



ZINC. 



99 



and the oxide which swims upon the sur- 
face of the molted mot:il is skimmed oft' and 
returned to the reducing crucibles, wliile 
the metal is run into moulds. The ingots 
are known in commerce as spelter. 

In the United States zinc was first made 
by Mr. John Ilitz, under the direction of 
Mr. Hasslcr, who, by order of Congress, 
•was engaged about the year 1838 to manu- 
facture standard weights and measures for 
the cus1«om-houses. The work was done at 
the U. S. arsenal at Washington, the ores 
used being the red oxide of New Jersey. The 
expense exceeded the value of the metal ob- 
tained, and it has generally been supposed 
that we could not produce spelter so cheaply 
as it can be imported from Europe. The 
next experiments were made at the works of 
the New Jersey Zinc Company, 1850, on the 
Belgian plan. In these great difficulties were 
experienced for want of retorts of suffi- 
ciently refractory character to withstand the 
high temperature and the chemical action of 
the constituents of the ore. The franklin- 
ite, which always accompanies the red ox- 
ide ores, was particularly injurious by rea- 
son of the oxide of iron forming a fusible 
silicate with the substance of the retorts 
These trials consequently failed after the 
expenditure of large sums of money. The 
next important trial was made in 1856, by a 
Mr. lloofstetter, who built a Silesian furnace 
of 20 muffles for the Pennsylvania and Le- 
high Zinc Company at their mine near 
Friedensville. This proved a total failure, 
and seemed almost to establish the impracti- 
cability of producing spelter with the Amer- 
ican ores, clays, and anthracite. About this 
time Mr. Joseph Wharton, the general man- 
ager of the Pennsylvania and Lehigh Zinc 
Company, and Mr. Samuel Wetherill, of 
Bethlehem, both hit upon the same plan of 
treating zinc ores in an open furnace, and 
leading the volatile products through incan- 
descent coal, in order to reduce the zinc ox- 
ide so formed, and draw only metallic and 
carbonaceous vapors into the condensing 
apparatus. Mr. Wharton constructed his 
furnace in Philadelphia, and Mr. Wetherill 
his in Bethlehem. The former having com- 
pleted his trials, filed a caveat for the proc- 
ess, but soon after abandoned it as econom- 
ically impracticable. The latter continued 
his operations, patented the method, and 
produced some zinc, eight or ten tons of 
which were sold to the U. S. Assay Office 
in New York. The manufacture was not, 



however, long continued. In 1858, Mr. 
Wetherill recommenced the production of 
zinc, adopting a plan of upright retorts, 
somewhat like that in use in Carinthia, in 
Austria, and that of the English patent of 
James Graham. Mr. Wetherill had suc- 
ceeded in procuring good mixtures of fire 
clays, and his retorts made of these and 
holding each a charge of 400 lbs. of ore, 
proved sufficiently refractory for the opera- 
tion. The works now under his charge at 
Bethlehem, erected in 1858—9, and belong- 
ing to the owners of the Saucon mine, have 
a capacity of about two tons of metal daily, 

Mr. Wharton, after abandoning the 
method of reduction by incandescent coals, 
continued his experiments on different plans, 
and finally decided on the Belgian furnace 
as the best, after having actually made spel- 
ter from silicate of zinc, with anthracite, in 
muffles of American clays, at a cost below 
its market value. These trials were made in 
the zinc oxide works of the Pennsylvania 
and Lehigh Zinc Company. Their success 
encouraged the company to construct a fac- 
tory at Bethlehem for reducing zinc ores, 
and this was done under the direction of 
Mr. Wharton in 1860. The capacity of 
the works is about 2000 tons per annum, 
and their actual daily product in the winter 
of 1860-1, is over three tons. Four stacks 
or blocks are constructed, each containing 
four furnaces. To each furnace there are 
56 retorts, making in all 896, working two 
charges in twenty-four hours. Their total 
capacity is about five tons of metal. Be- 
sides the ordinary spelter of this manufac- 
ture, which, as will be seen by the remarks 
that follow, is remarkable for its freedom from 
injurious mixtures, and is the best commer- 
cial zinc in the world, Mr. Wharton also 
prepares from selected ores a pure zinc 
for the use of chemists, and for purposes in 
Avhich a high degree of purity is essential. 
This is cast in ingots of about nine pounds 
eacli, and is sold at the price of ten cents 
per pound. For the supply of chemists, and 
for the batteries employed by the telegraph 
companies, the American zinc of this manu- 
facture is preferred to all others. The total 
annual consumption of crude spelter in the 
United States amounts to the value of about 
$000,000 ; and the value of .sheet zinc, nails, 
etc., is about as much more. 

The commercial zincs, it has long been 
known, are contaminated by various foreign 
substances, the existence of some of which 



100 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



is indicated in the finely divided blaok sub- 
stance which remains tioating or sinking in 
the liquid, when the metal is dissolved in 
dilute acids. The impurities have been 
stated by different chemists to consist of a 
great variety of substances, such as lead, 
cadmium, arsenic, tin, iron, manganese, car- 
bon, etc. They injuriously affect the quality 
of the metal for many of its uses ; and the 
presence of one of them, arsenic, is fatal to 
the highly important use of zinc by chemists, 
as a reagent in the detection of arsenic in 
other substances. Arsenic in the form of a 
sulphuret often accompanies the native sul- 
phurets of zinc, and its oxide, being volatile, 
is readily carried over with the zinc fumes 
in the metallurgic treatment of blende, and 
may thus be introduced into the spelter. It is 
evidently, therefore, a matter of consequence 
to know the qualities of the different zincs 
of commerce, and the exact nature of the 
impurities they contain. Very thorough in- 
vestigations having these objects in view 
have recently been made in Cambridge, 
Massachusetts, by Messrs. Charles W. Eliot 
and Frank H. Storer of Boston, and the re- 
sults of these, with a full description of their 
methods of examination, were communicated. 
May 29, 1860, to the American Academy 
of Arts and Sciences, and published in the 
eighth volume of the new series of their 
Memoirs. Eleven varieties of zinc from dif- 
ferent parts of Europe, and made from the 
ores of New Jersey, and of the Saucon val- 
ley, Pennsylvania, were experimented upon, 
of all of which large samples were at hand. 
These varieties were the following : 1 , Sile- 
sian zinc ; 2, Vieille Montague zinc ; 3, New 
Jersey zinc ; 4, Pennsylvanian zinc, Beth- 
lehem, Pennsylvania ; 5, Vieille Montague 
zinc, employed at the United States mint, 
Philadelphia; 6, zinc of MM. Rousseau, 
Freres, Paris, labelled and sold as zinc pur ; 
7, sheet zinc obtained in Berlin, Prussia; 8, 
zinc made near Wrexham, North Wales; 9, 
zinc from the Mines Royal, Neath, South 
Wales ; 10, zinc from the works of Dillwyn 
& Co., Swansea, South Wales; 11, zinc 
from the works of Messrs. Vivian, Swansea. 
All of these, except the Pennsylvania zinc, 
furnished an insoluble residue, which was 
found to consist chiefly of metallic lead, and 
this proved to be the principal impurity of 
all the samples examined ; " the carbon, tin, 
copper, iron, arsenic, and other impurities 
found in the metal by previous observers, 
occur cither in very minute quantities, or 



rarely, and doubtless accidentally." The 
proportions of lead present in 100 parts of 
each of the varieties examined were respect- 
ively as follows : in No. 1, 1.46 ; 2, 0.292 ; 
3,0.079; 4,0.000; 6,0.494; 6,0.106; 7, 
1.297; 8,1.192; 9,0.823; 10,1.661; 11, 
1.516. The New Jersey zinc was found to 
contain a sensible quantity of tin, copper 
amounting to 0.1298 per cent., iron 0.2088 
per cent., and an unusually large amount of 
arsenic. Traces of this were also detected 
in the white oxide prepared from the ores 
of the New Jersey mines, and in the red 
oxide ore itself; but the same ore afforded 
no clue as to the source whence the copper 
was derived, a metal of which not the slight- 
est traces were discoverable in the other 
zincs. None of the samples contained suf- 
ficient arsenic to admit of its proportion be- 
ing determined, and some were entirely free 
from it, as some of the Belgian and Pennsyl- 
vania spelter, but traces of it were met with 
in other samples from the same regions, in- 
dicating that the occasional use of infei*ior 
ores, such as blende, intermixed with the 
carbonates and silicates, might introduce 
this substance, or possibly it might come 
over only in the first part of the distillation, 
and the zinc collected in the latter part 
might be quite free from it. The Silesian 
zinc contained minute quantities of sulphur 
and arsenic ; and the English zinc more ar- 
senic than any other, except perhaps the 
New Jersey. The purest of all the samples 
was that from Bethlehem, Pennsylvania, 
some of it yielding no impurity, except a 
trace of cadmium. The source of a trace 
of arsenic in another sample is supposed to 
be in the use of the crust of oxide of zinc 
from the operations connected with the 
manufacture of white oxide of zinc, no par- 
ticular care being taken in that process to 
reject inferior ores, and this crust being 
taken to the other works where the metal is 
prepared and mixed with the selected ores 
employed for this use, it has thus introduced 
the arsenic. As the authors of the paper 
remark, there seems to be no reason why 
zinc of uniform purity should not be ob- 
tained from the excellent ores of the Saucou 
valley mines. 

ETROPEAN MANUFACTURE. 

A large portion of the zinc of commerce 
is furnished by the works of the Vieille 
Montague Company, established near the 
frontier of Belgium and Prussia, chiefly in 



101 



the province of Liege of the former country. 
A large nuniher of mines are worked in this 
region, tiie most important of which is that 
of the Vieille Montague or Altenbcrg, sit- 
uated in the village of Moresnct, between 
Aix-la-Chapelle and the town of Liege. It 
is said that the great body of carbonate of 
zinc found here was worked as long ago as 
the year 1435, and that for four centuries it 
was not known that the ore was of metallic 
character, but it was used as a peculiar earth 
adapted for converting copper into brass. 
The ore lies in a basin-like depression in 
strata of magnesian limestone, and is much 
mixed with beds of clay intercalated among 
its layers. The ore is chiefly carbonate 
mixed with the silicate and oxide of zinc. 
Some of it is red, from the oxide of iron in- 
termixed, and this produces only about 33 
per cent, of metal. The purer white ore 
yields about 46 per cent., and is moreover 
much preferred on account of its Avorking 
better in the retorts. The furnaces em- 
ployed in the distillation of these ores are 
constructed upon a very large scale, and on 
a ditferent plan from those in use in Great 
Britain. The general character of the oper- 
ations, however, is the same. The ores are 
first calcined, losing about one fifth of their 
Aveight. They are then ground in mills, and 
charges are made up of 1100 lbs. of the 
powdered ore mixed with 550 lbs. of fine 
coal. The mixture being well moistened 
with water, is introduced into cylindrical re- 
torts, which are three feet 8 inches long 
and 6 inches diameter inside, set inclining 
outward, to the number of 42 in a single 
furnace, and 4 such furnaces are constructed 
in one stack. The open end of each retort 
connects, by means of an iron adapter 16 
inches long, with a wrought-iron cone, the 
little end of which, projecting out from the 
furnace, is only an inch in diameter. After 
the charges have been sufficiently heated, 
the sublimed zinc condenses in the neck of 
the retort and in the adapter and cone. The 
last two are then removed, and the zinc and 
oxide are collected from them, and the liq- 
uid metal in the neck of the retorts is 
drawn tiut and caught in a large ladle, from 
which it is poured into moulds. The zinc 
thus obtained is remeltcd before it is rolled. 
Two charges are run through in twenty -fi)ur 
hours, each furnace pr(jduciug from 2200 lbs. 
of ore about 620 lbs. of metal, which is 
about 30 per cent. From a late report of 
these operations it appears that there arc 



seven large smelting establishments belong- 
ing to the Vieille Montague Zinc Mining 
Company, on the borders of Belgium and 
Prussia, com})rising 230 furnaces." The an- 
nual product of these is 29,000 tons of spel- 
ter, of which 23,000 tons are converted into 
sheet zinc, and about 7000 tons are rolled at 
mills not the property of the com]iany. They 
also manufacture oxide of zinc in three cs- 
tal)lishinents devoted to this operation, to 
the amount of about 6000 tons annually. The 
company also purchases spelter very largely. 
The metallurgy of zinc has, within a few 
years past, become an important branch of 
industry in Upper Silesia on tlie borders of 
Poland, and not far from Cracow. In 1 857 
there were no less than 47 zinc works in this 
part of I'russia, one of whicli, named Lydog- 
niahlitte, at Konigshiitte, belonged to the 
government, and the remainder were owned 
by private companies and individuals. In 
that year their total production was 31,480 
tons of spelter, valued at about 17,660,000 
francs. Many of the establishments belong 
to the Silesian Company, which also owns 
several coal mines near their works, and a 
number of zinc mines. The government 
works are supplied with ores from their own 
mines, and also from all the others, being 
entitled to one twentieth of their product. 
From a description of the operations pub- 
lished in the sixteenth volume of the Annalcs 
dcs Mines, fifth series, 1859, it appears that 
the processes are the same which had been 
employed for full twenty years previously, 
and each establishment presents little else 
than a repetition of the works of the others. 
The furnace in use is a double stack, fur- 
nished along each side with horizontal ovens, 
into each of which three muffles or retorts 
are introduced. These are constructed of 
refractory fire clays, and are charged, like 
the retorts of gas furnaces, by conveying the 
material upon a long charger or spoon into 
the interior. Their dimensions arc about 4 
feet long, 22 inches high, and 8i inches wide, 
and the weight of the charge introduced is 
only about 55 pounds. The ovens on each 
side of the stacks contain as many as 20 and 
sometimes 30 retorts. The same stack con- 
tains besides, 1st, an oven in which the ores 
belonging to it are roasted for expelling the 
water and a portion of the carbonic acid they 
contain (a process in which they lose about 
i their weight) ; 2d, an oven for baking the 
retorts, each establishment making its own ; 
and 3d, a furnace for remelting and purifying 



102 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



the zinc obtained from the retorts. Several 
stacks are arranged in a large building with 
close walls and open along the top of the 
roof to allow the smoke to escape. On one 
side, connected with it, are the workshops 
in which the muffles are made and various 
other operations are carried on. 

The principal zinc mines are in the vicin- 
ity of Beuthen, and are found in the magne- 
sian limestones of the new rod sandstone 
formation. They are connected with the 
zinc works, which are principally near Ko- 
nigshutte, by branch railroads connecting 
with the principal line of road between 
Tarnowitz and Kattowitz. The ores are 
chiefly carbonates, always mixed with much 
oxide of iron, which is sometimes present to 
the extent of 20 per cent., and with them is 
also associated more or less silicate of zinc, 
blende, galena, and cadmium. Their per- 
centage of zinc is very variable, rarely reach- 
ing 35, and probably averaging 21 or 22 per 
cent. Much that is worked does not exceed 
12 per cent. They lie in irregular deposits, 
and it is found that their yield of zinc has 
been gradually falling off, so that it is now 
only about two fifths of what it was formerly. 
This low yield involves a large consumption 
of fuel, which is 20 tons for one of zinc ob- 
tained ; and if this deterioration continues, 
the mines must some time hence be aban- 
doned. The coal employed in working the 
ores is of poor quality, burning without 
flame ; but it leaves no cinder, and is pro- 
cured from mines very near the works, and 
at the extraordinary low price of 6 to 7 
francs the 1000 kilogrammes (about one ton). 
The retorts are charged every 24 hours with 
roasted ore reduced to the size of nuts, and 



mixed with oxide of zinc from previous op- 
erations, with the dross from the crucible 
employed in remelting, with the incrustations 
from the muffles and their connections out- 
side the furnaces, and in fine with cinders 
that have fallen through the grates, these last 
making about J the bulk of the charge. 
The workmen having discharged a muffle of 
the liquid zinc and oxide remaining from the 
previous operation by drawing them forward, 
so that they fall upon an iron shelf placed 
below to catch them, and having repaired 
any cracks and holes in the muffle, they in- 
troduce the new charge in small portions at a 
time, and immediately adjust the outer con- 
nection, which is also of earthenware bent 
down at a right angle, and close up the 
openings in front. The zinc soon begins to 
distil over, and drops down upon the iron 
shelf, forming pieces of all shapes ; and it is 
more or less mixed with oxide colored yel- 
low by the oxide of cadmium. When re- 
melted and run into moulds, the spelter is 
stated to have about the following composi- 
tion : zinc, 97.50, cadmium, 1.00, lead, 0.20, 
arsenic, 0.84, sulphur, 0.05, together with 
traces of tin, iron, and carbon ; but the char- 
acter and proportion of the impurities are 
probably very variable. The expenses of 
the manufacture at the royal works amount- 
ed for the year 1856 to 48.60 francs the 
metrical quintal (220.47 lbs.), and in 1858 
to 54.84 francs ; consisting in the latter 
year of the following items : ore, 26.84 ; 
fuel, 14.30; labor, 7.00; materials employ- 
ed, 3.70 ; general expenses, 3.00. The oper- 
ations of the Silesian Company at their 
several works for the first half of the year 
1858 are thus presented : — 



COST OF THE SEVERAL ITEMS PER METRICAL QUINTAL OF, PKODnCT. 



Name of Works. Ores treated. 

Met. quint. 

Gabor Silesia 112,399 

Paulshutte 40,784 

Thurzohiitte 37,458 

Frieden,shutte 15,345 

Stanislashutte 40,534 

Carlshiitte 45,918 

292,438 



Zinc 

obtiiined. 

Met. quint. 

19,703 


Cost of 
labor. 

Francs. 
4.98 


Fuel. 
Francs. 
10.35 


Ores. 

Francs. 

11.40 


Sundry 

expenses. 

Francs. 

4.27 


Total cost 
Francs. 
31.00 


4,928 


7.10 


14.69 


14.24 


4.77 


40.80 


4,495 


7.57 


12.08 


12.92 


4.90 


37.47 


2,346 


5.96 


10.66 


13.98 


4.62 


35.22 


3,978 


8.83 


16.18 


15.66 


6.23 


46.90 


5,723 


6.06 


14.80 


13.23 


6.91 


41.00 



41,173 



The general consumption of spelter 
throughout the world is estimated in the 
report to which we have already referred, re- 
lating to the Vieille Montague Company, 
to be about 67,000 tons, of which about 
44,000 tons are sheet zinc applied as fol- 
lows : — 



Tons. 

For roofing: and architectural purposes 23,000 

" sheathing of ships 3,500 

" lining packing cases 2,500 

" domestic utensils 12,000 

" stamped ornaments 1,500 

" miscellaneous uses 1,500 

44,000 



103 



Tlie estimate of 67,000 tons as the total 
annual pniduotion of zinc is probably too 
small for Europe alone. Taking the product 
above given of the works of the Vieille Mon- 
tagne Company, viz., 29,000 tons, and that 
of the Silesian furnaces, 31,480 tons, there 
remain only 6,520 tons to be divided among 
the other zinc-producing countries. These 
arc Poland, on the borders of Silesia, the 
annual production of which is usually given 
as 4000 tons ; England, which has rapidly 
advanced from 1000 tons of spelter per an- 
num to 6900 tons in 1858; Austria, which 
produces 1500 tons; Sweden, 40 tons; and the 
llartz 10 tons. Zinc, it is believed, is also 
manufactured to some extent in Spain. The 
European production would, therefore, seem 
to exceed 73,000 tons, and for the total 
production of the world, that of the United 
States and of China should be added. Of 
the extent of the manufacture of the latter 
country we know nothing. The United 
States produces of oxide of zinc and spelter 
over 7.000 tons, and imports 1 2,000, annually. 

The value of the ores at different costs of 
the metal is given in the following recently 
prepared table from one of the European 
houses : — 

SCHEDULE OF THE COST OF ZINC ORB ON SHIPBOARD AT 





ANTWEltP. 




CARBONATE OF ZINC. 

letal worth .50 francs the ^/!"',;'''T'!! 

100 kilogrammes. ,^f '"/^^^ '"" 

■^ KilfiKramtiios. 

Percentage Value of 100 Value of 100 

of zinc by kilosrammes. kilogrammes. 

•aalysis. Francs. Francs. 

40 80.00 9-1.50 


Metal worth CO 

f. the 100 

kilogrammes. 

Value of 100 

kilogrammes. 

Francs. 

109.00 


i5 


102.50 


119.50 


136.50 


60 


125.00 


144.50 


164.00 


55 


147.50 


169.50 


191.50 


60 


170.00 


194.50 


219.00 


65 


192.50 


219.50 


246.50 


70 


215.00 


244.50 


274.00 


40 


SILICATE OF ZINC. 

45.00 57.00 


69.00 


45 


67.50 


82.00 


96.50 


50 


90.00 


107.00 


124.00 


55 


112.50 


1:52.00 


151.50 


60 


135.00 


157.00 


179.00 


65 ' 


157,50 


182.00 


206.50 


70 


180.00 


207.00 


234.00 



A kilogramme is equivalent to 2205 lbs. 
avoirdupois. 

Twenty-five years ago the (juantity of zinc 
used for roofing did not exceed 5,000 tons 
per annum, and no zinc was employed for 
sheathing ships, or lining packing cases. 
The stamped ornaments in this metal only 
came into use in 1852. In Germany zinc is 
now very generally used for roofing ; and in 
Paris it has been employed for nearly every 



roof constructed during the last twenty-five 
years. In laying the sheets great cure is 
taken that tiie metal has sullicient room to 
expand and contract by change of tempera- 
ture ; and especially that it is fastened with 
zinc nails, and is allowed to come nowhere 
in contact with iron — even with nail heads. 
The purer the metal the longer it lasts. 

lii'sides the uses named for this metal, it 
is emi)loyed for coating sheet iron, making 
what is called galvanized iron ; for pipes for 
conveying liquids; for baths, water-tanks, 
milk-i)ans and pails, plates for engraving; 
for galvanic batteries ; for nails, spikes, and 
wire ; for signs ; music printing ; and for the 
cornices of buildings. It has also been cast 
into statues, in imitation of bronze. The 
Vieille Montagne Company sent to the Great 
Exhibition in London a statue of Queen Vic- 
toria, which with its pedestal of zinc was 
twenty-one feet high. By a process some- 
what hke lithography, called Zincography, 
drawings, old engravings, and autograph let- 
ters are transferred to it, and afier treatment 
with acids, printed from a raised surface. A 
modification of this process called Photozinc- 
ography, accomplishes the difficult task of 
printing from a photograph. Zinc is also an 
important reagent in chemical operations, 
and is employed with sulphuric acid to de- 
compose wat«r for obtaining hydrogen gas. 

ZINC PAINT. 

White oxide of zinc was first recom- 
mended as a substitute for white lead by 
the celebrated Guyton de Morveau about 
the close of the last century, during his in- 
vestigations on the subject of lead poison- 
ing ; and to him it was suggested by Cour- 
tois, a manufacturer at Dijon. The high 
price of zinc at that time, and ignorance 
respecting the proper manner of using the 
oxide of zinc, prevented its introduction. 
It was many years after this that methods of 
producing it as cheaply as white lead Mere 
devised by M. Leclaire, a house-painter of 
Paris ; and lie also first prepared to use with 
it a scries of yellow and green unchangeable 
colors, to replace those before in use having 
noxious bases of lead, copper, or arsenic ; 
and also a drying oil, prepared by boiling- 
linseed oil with about five j)er cent, of oxide 
of manganese. His process, which is still 
the one in general use in Europe, is based 
on the treatment of the metal instead of the 
ore, as practised in this country, and scarcely 
any white oxide of zinc is there made by 



104 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED ST'ATES. 



any other method. The furnaces employed 
are similar to those for producing the metal, 
or like those of the gas works. When the 
retorts set in these furnaces have become 
very hot, they are charged with the ingots 
of zinc. The metal soon melts, and its 
vapor passes off through the outlets of the 
retorts, where it meets a current of air, and 
both together are drawn on through the 
condensing apparatus either by the draught 
of a chimney, or by an exhausting fan at the 
further extremity of the apparatus. The 
metallic vapors become oxidized by mixing 
with the air, and are converted into a light, 
flaky, white powder, which is the oxide of 
zinc. The arrangements for condensing 
and collecting this are similar in principle 
to those employed for the same purposes in 
the American process. By making use of 
the metal in retorts, instead of subliming it 
from ores contaminated Avith their own im- 
purities, and mixed with the coal required 
for conducting the process, a much purer 
oxide of zinc is obtained ; and by selecting 
the purest sorts of spelter, the beautiful 
article, called by the French blanc de neige, 
or " snow-white," is produced, which is 
employed by painters in the place of the 
" silver-white." With the use of other zinc, 
the product is fit to be substituted for the 
best white lead. But if the metal has been 
made from ores containing cadmium or iron, 
or if old zinc has been introduced to which 
any solder adheres, according to the French 
chemists oxides of other metals are pro- 
duced, and are taken up in small quantities 
with the zinc vapors, imparting to the oxide 
a slightly yellow or greenisli tint, which if 
not very decided may however disappear 
when the paint is mixed ; but the expe- 
rience of American manufacturers does not 
accord with this explanation. 

The manufacture of white oxide of zinc 
direct from the ore is a purely American 
process, established by the experiments of 
Mr. Richard Jones of Philadelphia in the 
year 1850. The great bodies of the rich 
ores of northern New Jersey had at various 
times, for the past two centuries, attracted 
the attention of many persons interested in 
metallurgical operations ; and of late years 
numerous attempts had been made to devise 
some method of converting them to useful 
purposes. Zinc, however, was a metal not 
much in demand, and nothing was known 
of the useful qualities of the white oxide. 
When the value of this had been demon- 



strated in Europe, and the practicability of 
producing it economically from the red 
oxide was shown, a company was organized 
in New York under the name of the New 
Jersey Zinc Company, for the purpose of 
carrying on this manufacture upon a large 
scale. This association was incorporated by 
the Legislature of New Jersey, February 
15, 1849, and the report of their operations, 
made December 31, 1853, by their presi- 
dent, C. E. Detmold, Esq., showed a pro- 
duction, for 1852, of 2,425,506 lbs. of oxide ; 
and for 1853, of 4,043,415 lbs.; and the 
total production for 10 years, ending with 
1800, has amounted to above 19,500 tons. 
Their works Avere established at Newark, N. 
J., to which place the ores are brought by 
the Morris and Essex canal; and the an- 
thracite consumed in the manufacture is 
also delivered by water transportation. The 
company has forty furnaces, that may be 
kept in constant operation. The character 
of the process is like that which will be 
given below, as conducted by the Passaic 
Mining and Manufacturing Company. 

The success of the enterprise of the New 
Jersey Zinc Company, and the discovery in 
1853 of the great beds of silicate and car- 
bonate of zinc in the Saucon valley, Penn- 
sylvania, led to the organization in that year 
of the Pennsylvania and Lehigh Zinc Com- 
pany, and the erection of furnaces for mak- 
ing the oxide at Bethlehem, on the Lehigh 
river. The operations were conducted by 
Samuel Wetherill, Esq., by a patented proc- 
ess of his own invention, and at a contract 
price of $50 per ton ; the ore being deliv- 
ered by the company at the works for $1.50 
per ton. About four tons were consumed to 
the ton of oxide. The company mined up 
to January, 18G0, about G0,000 tons of ore, 
and at that time Avere manufacturing about 
320,000 lbs. of oxide of zinc per month. 

A third company was established in 1855, 
called the Passaic Mining and Manufactur- 
ing Company, and their works, constructed 
at Communii«nv, on the Morris canal near 
Jersey City, Aveut into operation in June of 
that year. They obtained their ores both 
from the mines of red oxide in Sussex 
county, and from the Saucon valley mines in 
Pennsylvania. They employed 24 furnaces, 
built in 3 stacks, of 8 each, in Avhich they 
were arranged like ovens, half of them open- 
ing on one side and half on the opposite 
side. Each one was about 6 feet in depth 
(from front to back), 4 feet in Avidth, and 



ZINC. 



105 



about 31 feet in height. The roof was arch- 
ed, with an opening through it for the pipe 
which conveyed away the vapor and products 
of combustion. The solo was formed of cast- 
iron phites, which were perforated full of small 
holes for admitting the blast to penetrate 
every portion of the charge, as the wind was 
driven by two large fan-blowers into the re- 
ceptacle under the furnace corresponding to 
the ash-pit. The ores were prepared ])y first 
crushing them to powder, Avhich was done by 
passing them through two pairs of Cornish 
rolls, and then mixing them thoroughly with 
about half their weiglit of tlie dust of anthra- 
cite. A fire was kindled upon the grate-bars 
of 250 lbs. of pea coal, and when ignited to 
full whiteness the charge of GOO lbs. of ore, 
mixed with 300 of coal dust, was added, and 
when exhausted the charge was witiidrawn, 
leaving only sulhcient coal to ignite the next 
charge, thus working otf 4 charges in every 
24 hours. The proportion of oxide obtained 
from the ore was variable, as the charge was 
not of uniform quality ; but it was usually 
between 30 and 40 per cent. As the coal 
rapidly consumed from the effect of the blast, 
the ores were decomposed, and metallic zinc 
sublimed. The vapor rose with the gaseous 
])roducts of combustion, and all were carried 
u[) the pipe, which just above the roof of 
the stack terminate under an inverted fun- 
nel, the base of which covered the lower pipe 
like a hood, and the upper portion was a 
pipe like that below. A strong current of 
air was created by two exhausting fan- 
])lowers, at the other extremity of the ap- 
paratus, and the vapors were drawn up to- 
gether with much air which flowed in around 
the open base of the funnel, and caused at 
this point a vivid combustion of the zinc 
vapors, which burned with a pale blue flame, 
and were thus converted into oxide. The 
ajip(!arance presented by this combustion 
actively going on in full view under each 
hood was very striking, and was far from 
suggesting to an observer unacquainted with 
the process, the possibility that from the 
pale flames rushing up the pipes any valua- 
Ide product could be recovered. The pipes 
connected above with a cylindrical sheet-iron 
receiver that extended over the three stacks, 
so as to secure the products of all the fur- 
naces. It was a huge pipe, 6^ feet in diam- 
eter, and 130 feet long, and passed along 
under the roof, against a line of windows on 
each side, through which air was admitted 
for hastening the cooling of the products. 



The pipe discharged into a square tower in 
masonry, and in this the jjarticles were 
washed and cooled by a continual falling 
sheet of water. The light flocculent oxide 
of zinc was not carried down by this to any 
great extent, but was drawn on by the ex- 
haust through 3 large pipes to a second tower 
with three divisions, in which the fans were 
]daced that created the draught. From this 
the current, still propelled by the fans, moved 
on through other pipes that connected with 
the system of flannel bags, which in great 
numbers, and of extraordinary sizes, were sus- 
l)ended throughout the portion of the build- 
ing devoted to the final cooling of the oxide, 
and filtering it from the gaseous matters inter- 
mixed. Some of the bags extemled the whole 
length of the rooms, which were 120 feet 
long by C4 wide, and the diameter of the larg- 
est of them was over 4 feet. They were ar- 
ranged near together, and some were carried 
vertically from the horizontal ones u\) to the 
roof. Through the pores of the flannel the 
gases escaped, and the oxide of zinc remained 
thoroughly purified. Nearly 200,000 square 
feet of flannel were worked into these bags ; 
and one person was almost constantly em- 
ployed with a sewing machine, and two others 
Avorking by hand, in making and repairing 
them. Along the under side of the horizontal 
bags pipes of cotton cloth, ten or twelve inches 
in diameter, reached down nearly to the floor, 
and were kept tied around their lower ends. 
These were called the teats ; and the oxide of 
zinc was collected by lifting up the portions 
of the bags Avhere it had settled, and shaking 
these so as to make it fall into the teats. The 
ends of these were then opened, and the 
white zinc was received in strong bags, 
which being tied up were laid upon a truck, 
and this was run by steam power back and 
forth under a compressing roller. The air 
dispersed through it, rendering it so light 
and bulky, was thus expelled, and the oxide 
was converted into a dense, heavy powder. 
The last process was to grind this with 
bleached linseed oil, which was done in the 
ordinary ])aint mills. The jiaint was then 
transferred into small kegs for tlie market. 

The residuum of the furnace charge, when 
of red oxide, consisted of some unsublimed 
zinc ore mixed with franklinite and more or 
less unconsumod coal. It was raked out in 
the form of slags, and accumulated in immense 
piles about the Avorks. In 1853, Mr. Detmold 
succeeded in using this as an iron ore, and pro- 
duced excellent iron which proved to be also 



106 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



well adapted for the manufacture of steel. 
The iron manufacture has been continued, and 
has become a profitable branch of the opera- 
tions of the United States Zinc Company, pro- 
ducing about 20U0 tons of zinc per annum. 
The franklinite itself had been used a year ear- 
lier for the same purposes by Mr. Edwin Post, 
at Stanhope, and from this he obtained both 
iron and steel ; but when the manufacture 
was undertaken upon a large scale by the 
New Jersey Franklinite Company, at Frank- 
lin, New Jersey, it proved unsuccessful in 
practice. 

The product of the zinc works of the Pas- 
saic Company for the year 1856, was 2,327,- 
920 lbs. of oxide of zinc; and the monthly 
production for the year 1860 was about 
40(1.000 lbs. from 1 6 furnaces. With the 24 
in blast their monthly capacity was from 280 
to 300 tons of 2 000 lbs. to the ton. The 
total annual product of the three establish- 
ments was from 6000 to 7000 tons of oxide. 
For a few years the zinc paints were popu- 
lar, and made considerable inroads upon the 
market for white lead ; but the general ver- 
dict of intelligent and skilful painters is that 
tliey are inferior to the lead both in body 
and permanency, and their sale has fallen off' 
at least nine-tenths since 1865. 

The rate of the importations of zinc, spelter 
and manufactures of zinc, with the re-exports 
of the same from 1859 to 1870, both in- 
clusive, were : 

Imported. Re-exported. 

1859 $1,333,112 $14,912 

1860 804,358 26,383 

1861 590,280 19,100 

1862 254,033 563 

1863 518,149 4,681 

1864 675,931 3,973 

1865 351,876 47,790 

1866 1,149,895 38,108 

1867 562,902 3,174 

1868 561,638 18,028 

1869 1,197,682 4,022 

1870 1,003,432 833 

The importance of the application of white 
zinc to painting in the place of white lead 
appears to have been much more fully appre- 
ciated in France and the United States than in 
Great Britain. Soon after the discoveries of 
Leclaire that white oxide of zinc could be 
thus used, and produce, with the colored 
bases he prepared of this and other innocu- 
ous oxides, all the tints required, the French 
government, recognizing the importance of 
his inventions, conferred upon him the cross 
of the Legion of Ilonor, and adopted the 
paints for the public buildings. By the year 



1849, over 6000 public and private build- 
ings had been painted with his prepara- 
tions, and the testimony was very strong in 
their favor. Not one of his workmen had 
been attacked by the painter's colic, though 
previously a dozen or more sutFered every 
year from it. The colors were pronounced 
more solid and durable than the old, were 
made brighter by washing, and were not tar- 
nished by sulphuretted hydrogen, as occurs 
to white lead. The best white paint was 
moreover so pure and brilliant a white, that 
it made the best white lead paint by its side 
look disagreeably yellow and gray. No dif- 
ficulty was experienced in making the new 
colors, mixed with the prepared oil, dry 
rapidly without the use of the ordinary dryers 
of lead compound ; and used in equal weight 
with lead, the zinc was found to cover bet- 
ter, and was, consequently, more economical 
at equal prices per lb. The English, how- 
ever, found many objectionable qualities in 
the new paint. Its transparency, which is 
the cause of its brilliancy, by reflecting in- 
stead of absorbing the light, was regarded as 
a defect, and the painters complained that it 
had not the body or covering properties of 
the carbonate of lead. It would not dry 
rapidly for the second coat without the use 
of the patent dryers, which contain lead, and 
therefore it was no better than the lead. 
Messrs. Coates & Co., who now import into 
Great Britain about 1000 tons of oxide of 
zinc per annum, wrote to the editor of the 
Lancet in March, 1860, that the consumption 
of white lead is still nearly 100 to 1 of white 
zinc, and that in 1856 the importation of the 
latter amounted to only 235 tons. They as- 
cribe the real cause of the larger consumption 
of white lead, to the almost entire exclusion of 
zinc, to the fact, that white lead can be adul- 
terated with barytes and other cheap ingre- 
dients without the adulteration being detected 
by the eye, thus securing large profits to the 
manufacturer and contractor, which cannot 
be realized in the use of zinc paint, for the 
reason that it has little affinity for foreign sub- 
stances. The experience of the manufacturers 
of the United States does not substantiate 
this statement as to the difficulty of using the 
oxide of zinc in mixture with other substances. 
It is employed not only alone, but mixed 
with either barytes or white lead, or with 
both of them ; and large quantities are thus 
sold and give satisfaction to consumers, who 
Avould reject the paint, if they supposed it to 
be any thing else than white lead. As to it* 



PLATINUM. 



10^ 



covering quality, it is found that the oxide of 
zinc varies accordinu; to the manner in wliich 
it has been prepared. The licht floeculent 
oxide mixes readily with oil without grinding; 
but though pressed, it covers much less sur- 
face than the same oxide moulded when mois- 
tened with water, and dried by artificial heat. 
This preparation also causes any yellowish or 
greenish tints to disappear, and the article 
may be supplied to the consumer in cakes, 
Avhich when ground with oil will cover more 
surface than the same weight of white lead. 
The body of the white zinc may be still fur- 
ther improved by calcination before grinding. 

The inferior colored sorts of oxide of zinc, 
such as are collected in the iron receivers 
near the furnaces, and that made from the 
pulverized ores of zinc, have been largely 
employed for painting iron surfaces, espec- 
ially on board of ships, the paint being found 
to possess a peculiar quality of protecting 
the iron it covers from rusting. 

Besides its use as a paint, oxide of zinc is 
applied to the preparation of the mastic for 
rendering metallic joints tight ; and to that of 
glazed papers and cards, for which white lead 
and carbonate of barytes have heretofore 
been used. The French use it in preparing 
the paste for artificial crystals instead of 
oxide of lead or other metallic oxides ; and 
they liave also made with it some of the 
finest sorts of cut glass and especially lenses. 
In the Great Exhibition of 1851, an awai'd 
was made to specimens of zinc glass which 
presented a very pleasing and white appear- 
ance, and were regarded as especially suited 
to achromatic purposes. It was remarkable 
for its being pui-er and more pellucid than 
lead glass, and also of greater specific gravity. 

A patent has been granted in the United 
States for the manufacture of flint glass with 
oxide of zinc, and specimens of glass were 
produced with it in 1860, which were re- 
jnarkable for their brilliancy and beautiful 
surface, or " skin," as it is called. The glass 
is more infusible than that made with oxide 
of lead, and there seems to be no good rea- 
son to prevent it coming rapidly into use. 



CHAPTER VI. 

PLATINUM. 

Altiiougu this metal is not obtained in 
large quantity in the United States, it is 
found associated with the gold in many lo- 



calities in California and Oregon, and has 
been detected in Rutherford county, North 
Carolina, and in traces in the lead and cop- 
per ores of Lancaster county, rcnnsylvania. 
From the states on the Pacific it has been 
supposed that it would yet be afforded as a 
commercial article. It is a metal of consid- 
erable interest from the extent to which it is 
used in the United States, and the success 
that has attended the attempts to work it in 
]'hiladelj)hia and New York. The metal is 
supplied to commerce from no certain source, 
and finds its way into the United States in 
a great variety of foi-ms, as in native grains 
found in washing the gold deposits of Cauca 
on the western coast of South America, of 
Brazil, and Oregon, and in manufactured ar- 
ticles imported from Europe and chiefly 
from France. Russia produced between the 
years 1824 and 1845 many times as much 
platinum as all the rest of the world, and 
introduced the metal into her coinage ; but 
after 1845 it was no longer coined, and the 
yield of the deposits in the Ural has dwin- 
dled away to almost nothing. The supply 
from Borneo has been very large for some 
years, the whole product of the island some- 
times amounting to GOO lbs. a year. It is 
found in small grains and lumps in the 
sands that are washed for gold ; and pieces 
of several pounds have been met with in Si- 
beria, the largest weighing over 22 lbs. troy. 
The properties which give to the metal its 
great value, as its power of resisting the ef- 
fects of heat and many of the most jiowerful 
chemical agents, also render it exceedingly 
difficult to work and to convert into useful 
shapes. The crude grains are generally al- 
loyed to the amount of about 20 per cent, of 
their weight with the very refractory metal 
iridium, with osmium, rhodium, iron, and 
sometimes other metals also. It is separated 
from the chief part of these and purified by 
dissolving the grains in aqua rcr/ia, a mixture 
of nitric and hydrochloric acid, and causing 
the metal to be precipitated by sal-ammoniac. 
It falls in a yellowish powder, which is a 
compound of platinum, ammonia, and chlo- 
rine. To decompose this the compound is 
separated from the liquid, and being Aveil 
washed and dried, is heated red liot in a cast- 
iron crucible. This drives ott" the ammonia 
and chlorine, and the platinum remains in 
the crucible in a spongy condition. This is 
condensed into solid metal by repeated 
heatings and hammerings. It has always 
been a matter of great difficulty to raise 



PLATINUM. 



109 



sufficient lieat to soften the platinum, even in 
quantities less than an ounce, so that it could 
bo worked under the hammer. It used for- 
merly to be brouiiht into a metallic cake by 
making a fusible alloy of it with arsenic, and 
then buriiincj out the latter as much as pos- 
sible, and hammering or rollinu; the cake into 
sheets, but the arsenic remaining in the 
platinum always injures its (juality. Dr. 
Robert Hare, of Philadelphia, was the first 
to fuse the metal for any practical purpose, 
and in May, 1838, he exhibited a cake of 
about 23 ounces, which was run together 
from grains and scraps by means of the in- 
tense heat produced by his oxy-hydrogen 
blowpipe. From a reservoir of oxygen, and 
from another of hydrogen, a gas-pipe con- 
veyed the gases into one tube, in which they 
were mixed just back of the igniting jets ; 
and in this the explosive mixture was kept 
cool by ice around the tube. Explosion was 
moreover guarded against by the extreme 
fineness of the apertures through which the 
gases were made to pass. 

This means of working platinum has been 
applied very successfully by Dr. E. A. L. 
Roberts, of Bond street. New York, in the 
preparation of platinum plate and various 
articles in this metal employed by dentists, 
such as the plates and fastenings for sets of 
artificial teeth, and the little pins which se- 
cure each tooth in its setting. The annual 
consumption of these last, it is estimated, 
amounts throughout the United States to 
about §60,000 in value, which is nearly i 
of the annual supply of the metal. The ap- 
paratus consists of two cylindrical copper 
gas-holders, one for hydrogen, holding 220 
gallons, and one for oxygen, holding 80 gal- 
lons. The Croton water, Avith a pressure of 
about 60 lbs. upon the square inch, is ad- 
mitted into the bottom of these gas-receivers, 
for propelling the gases as they are required. 
The discharge pipes liave each at their ex- 
tremity a short brass tube, which is full of 
pieces of wire of nearly the same length as 
the tube, jammed in very tightly. These 
unite in another brass tube which is packed 
in a similar Avay, and connects by a metallic 
pipe of only .i inch bore, with the burner. 
This is a little platinum box, one end of 
which terminates in a disk of platinum or 
copper i by i inch in size, perforated with 
21 very minute holes in 3 rows. This box 
is buried in plaster of Paris mixed up with 
fibres of asbestus, forming a lump sufficiently 
large to contain around the box a receptacle 



into which, by means of flexible pipes, a cur- 
rent of water is admitted and discharged on 
the same principle that the water-tuyeres 
of iron forges and furnaces are constructed 
and kept cool while in use. The burner 
points downward, so that the jt^t is directed 
immediately upon the face of the metal held 
up beneath it. The method of using the 
apparatus is as follows : the platinum scraps 
being first consolidated by pressure in 
moulds into compact cakes of 10 to 20 
ounces each, these are placed upon a plate 
of fire-brick, and brought to a full white 
heat in a powerful wind furnace. The plate 
with the platinum is then removed from the 
furnace and set in a large tin pan thickly 
lined with asbestus and plaster of I'aris, and 
is brought directly under the jet, which at 
the same time is ignited. The platinum im- 
mediately begins to melt upon the surface, 
and the pieces gradually run together into 
one mass as the ditlerent parts of the cakes 
are brought successively under the jet. 
Though the metal melts and flows upon 
itself, it cools too rapidly to be cast in a 
mould ; nor is this necessary or desirable 
for the uses to which it is applied. These 
require a soft and tough material, while the 
fused metal is liard and sonorous, and of 
crystalline texture, breaking like spelter. 
It is made malleable and tough by repeated 
heatings and hammerings. It is introduced 
into the muffle of the assay furnace con- 
structed by Dr. Roberts especially for pro- 
ducing the high heat required in these and 
similar operations, and is heated so intensely 
that when the door of the furnace is opened 
the cake of metal is too dazzlingly hot to be 
visible. It is then taken out with tongs 
plated with platinum, and hammered with a 
perfectly clean hammer upon a clean anvil, 
both of which should be as hot as possible 
without drawing the temper of the steel. If 
the process is one of welding, when the pla- 
tinum has cooled so as to be distinctly visi- 
ble, it should be heated again, for in this 
condition every blow tends to shatter and 
shake it to pieces. The lump is forged by 
hammering it to a thickness of about i of aji 
inch, and then being again heated very hot, 
is passed instantly through the rolls. It is 
thus obtained in sheets, which are easily con- 
verted into the various uses to which the 
metal is applied. 

Upon the opposite page, the apparatus 
employed and manner of conducting the 
operations are exhibited in the wood-cut; 



110 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



and the articles designated by the figures 
are thus explained : — 

1. Reservoir for oxygen. 

2. " " hydrogen. 

3. Hydrogen generator. 

4. Oxygen " 

5. Blowpipe. 

6. Tuyere. 

7. Rolls for converting the metal into sheets. 

8. Gasometer. 

9. Water pipes. 

10. Pan. 

11. Moulds in which the loose pieces of metal are 

compressed. 

Crucibles for chemical use are prepared by 
the ingenious method called spinning. A 
disk of the metal is securely fixed against the 
end of the mandrel of a lathe, and, as it re- 
volves rapidly, a blunt point is pressed upon 
its surface, causing the plate to gradually 
bend over and assume the desired form. 
The large platinum retorts used in the man- 
ufacture of sulphuric acid arc imported from 
Paris. The whole amount of platinum 
brought to the United States for the year 
1850 -was 34,000 oz. troy, which, at the 
custom-house valuation of $6.10 per oz., 
lunounts to $200,000. The importation 
.'■ince that time has been very irregular, but 
never equal to this. The amount of scraps 
remelted by Dr. Roberts is about 1000 oz. a 
year. 

IRIDIUM AXD OSMIUM. 

An alloy of these metals in fine grains of 
excessive hardness is found very frequently 
with platinum and with the gold which is 
refined at the mints. It is of interest from 
the use to which it is applied in forming the 
nibs of gold pens ; and for this purpose the 
small grains are purchased by the pen-makers 
sometimes at the rate of $250 an ounce. 
From this quantity they may select from 
8000 to 12,000 points of suitable size and 
shape for use. The alloy is known as iridos- 
miuin, and is also very generally called irid- 
ium. At some seasons it has been quite 
abundant in the gold presented at the New 
York assay office ; but recently it is more 
rare. As it does not fuse and alloy with the 
gold, it appears in specks upon the bars of 
this metal. The method of separating it is 
to melt the gold with a certain portion of 
silver, as in the usual refining process. The 
alloy thus obtained being less dense than the 
melted gold, the particles of iridium settle in 
the lower portions ; the upper is then ladled 
oflf, and the metals are parted. More of the 



impure gold is added, and the process thus 
goes on till a considerable amount of iridium 
is concentrated into the alloy of gold and 
silver, from which it is at last obtained by 
dissolving these metals. According to the 
statement of Dr. Thevenet published in the 
Annales des 3fines (vol. xvi., 1859), irid- 
ium is collected at the gold-washings along 
the sea-coast of Oregon, and is sometimes 
quite equal in quantity to the gold. He 
describes it as white, glistening, very heavy, 
its specific gravity being 20 to 21, very hard, 
and resembling sand, its angles slightly flat- 
tened and rounded by friction. It is accom- 
panied by platinum and rhodium. After 
one of the storms that prevail along this 
coast, the miners at low tide collect the 
black sand and carry it to the washing and 
amalgamating apparatus, in which it is stirred 
with mercury and then treated upon the 
shaking tables. Though by their rude proc- 
esses they probably lose h of the precious 
metals, they sometimes collect several ounces 
a day of gold to the man. Near Fort Or- 
ford, to the north of Rogue River, about 
15 per cent, of iridium is found with the 
gold. Still further north, between Cape 
Blanco and Coquille, the metals collected 
consist of about 45 per cent, iridium and 5 
per cent, platinum. Between Randolph and 
Cape Arago the metallic grains are very 
light and in extremely thin scales ; they con- 
sist of 70 per cent, iridium and 6 per cent, 
platinum. Further north, the iridium con- 
tinues almost as abundantly, but mostly in 
very fine particles. One piece was shown to 
Dr, Thevenet as a great curiosity which was 
as large as a grain of rice. In sifting more 
than 50 lbs. of iridium, he states that he had 
not seen a single specimen of one quarter 
this size. 



CHAPTER Vn. 

MERCURY. 

This metal, which is extensively employed 
in the arts, especially in the treatment of gold 
and silver ores by amalgamation, in the com- 
bination of amalgams for coating mirrors, etc, 
in the construction of barometers and ther- 
mometers, and other philosophical instru- 
ments, in the manufacture of the paint called 
vermilion, for several medicinal preparations, 
and for a variety of other purposes, was not 
classed among the productions of the United 
States until after the acquisition of Califor- 



MERCURY. 



Ill 



nia, when mines of its principcal ore were 
opened, which have been extensively worked, 
as will bo described below. ]\Iercury, which 
is the only fluid metal, is found both in a 
native state, dispersed in drops among the 
slates that contain the veins of its ores, and 
also occurs in combination with sulphur in the 
ore called cinnabar, a compound of one atom 
of mercury and one of sulphur, or of 86.2 
per cent, of the former, and 13.8 per cent. 
of the latter. Some other natural compounds 
are known, which are not, however, of much 
importance. Cinnabar is almost the exclu- 
sive source of the metal. This is a very 
heavy, brilliant ore of different shades of red; 
is readily volatilized at a red heat, giving off 
fumes, when exposed to the air, both mer- 
curial and sulphurous ; but in tight vessels it 
sublimes without decomposition, and if lime 
or iron be introduced with the ore into re- 
torts, the sulphur is retained in combination 
with the new element, and the mercury es- 
capes in vapor, which may be condensed 
and recovered in the metallic state. On 
this principle the process for collecting mer- 
cury is based. The ores of mercury are 
found in almost all the geological formations, 
but the productive mines are only in the 
metamorphic or lowest stratified rocks, and in 
the bituminous slates of the coal measures. 

In order to appreciate the importance of 
the mines of California, it is necessary to un- 
derstand the extent of the demand for this 
metal, and the sources which have supplied it. 
From the time of the ancient Greeks and Ro- 
mans, mercury has been held in high estima- 
tion, and has been furnished from the same 
mines, wdiich have ever since produced the 
chief part of the product of the world. Pliny 
states that the Greeks imported red cinnabar 
from Almaden in Spain, 700 years before 
the Christian era, and in his own time it was 
brought to Rome from the same mines to 
the amount of 700,000 lbs. annually. In 
modern times the production amounts to 
2,700,000 to 3,450,000 lbs. per annum, and 
is chiefly obtained from two veins, one 
about 2 feet, and the otlier 14 feet thick, 
■which, meeting in a hill about 125 feet high, 
spread out to a thickness of nearly 100 feet. 
The ores are of small percentage, yielding 
about ,-„ only of mercury. The greatest 
depth of the workings was only about 330 
yards several years ago. After the metal has 
been extracted from the ores, it is packed in 
iron bottles or flasks holding 7Gi lbs. each, 
and is taken to Cadiz for shipment. For 



many years past, the lessees from the Span- 
isli government, in whom the title is vested, 
have been the Rothschilds and other bank- 
ers of Europe ; but their contracts with the 
government have varied from time to time, 
thus aftecting the price at which the product 
was held.* 

The mines next in importance have been 
those of Idria in Carniola, belonging to the 
Austrian government. These, for some 
years previous to 1847, had produced an 
annual average of 358,281 lbs. of mercury, 
and since that time, the production has va- 
ried, sometimes reaching 000,000, and even 
over 1,000,000 lbs. per annum. The other 
mines ■ of Europe do not probably produce 
200,000 lbs. On the American continent 
many localities of the ores have been worked 
to some extent ; but although the consump- 
tion is very great at the silver mines of 
Mexico, amounting, as estimated by Hum- 
boldt, to 16,000 quintals of 2U0 lbs. each, 
three fourths of the supply was then derived 
from the European mines. In 1782, mer- 
cury was even brought to South America 
from China, where it was formerly largely 
extracted in the province of Yunnan. Yet 
in the early years of the Spanish conquest 
Peru was a large producer of the metal, its 
most important mines being in the province 
of Iluancavelica, where no less than 41 dif- 
ferent localities of the ore have been known ; 
but at present the whole product of the 
country is supposed not to exceed 200,000 
lbs. A large portion of this product is from 
the Santa Barbara, or the " Great Mine," 
which has been worked since 1566. The 
mines of Chili and the numerous localities at 
which the ores have been found in Mexico 
supply no metal of consequence. Dumas 
estimated, not long since, the total annual 
production as follows : — 

lbs. avoirdupois. 

Almaden, Spaia 2,700,000 to ;i,45G,000 

Idria G48,000 " 1,080,000 

Hungary and Transylvania. . 75,600 " 97,200 

Deux Fonts 42,200" 54,000 

Palatinate 19,400" 21, GOO 

Iluancavelica . . 324,000 

California 2,000,000 

Total 7,0;;2,800 



*Inl8."{9 the royalty demanded by the govern- 
ment was $59 per quintal of lOG lbs., to which it 
had reached by successive advances from $51.25; 
and in 184:! it had advanced to $S2.50 per quintal. 
The opening of the California mines soon caused this 
to be couaiderably reduced. 



112 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES, 



In California the existence of large quan- 
tities of cinnabar was known long before the 
real character of the ore was understood. It 
was found along a range of hills on the 
southern side of the valley of San Jose, 
about 60 miles south-east from San Fran- 
cisco. For an unknown period the Indians 
had frequented the locality, coming to it 
from distant places, even from the Columbia 
river, to obtain the bright vermilion paint 
■with which to ornament their persons. With 
rude implements, such as the stones they 
picked from the streams, they extracted 
the ore from the flinty slates and shales in 
which it was found, and in their search for 
it they excavated a passage into the moun- 
tain of about sixty feet in length. In 
1824 the attention of the whites began to 
be directed to this curious ore, and some of 
the Mexicans sought to extract from it gold 
or silver. Other trials made of it in 1845 
resulted in the discovery of its true charac- 
ter, and operations were thereupon com- 
menced to work it by one Andres Castil- 
lero. Owing, however, to the disturbed 
state of the country, little was done until 
1850, when a company of Mexicans and 
English engaged vigorously in the extraction 
and metallurgical treatment of the ore, and 
established the mine which they called the 
New Almaden. In 1858 a stop was put 
upon their further proceedings by an injunc- 
tion issued by the United States court on 
the question of defective title. From the 
testimony presented in the trial, it appeared 
that the company in the course of eight 
years had produced full 20,000,000 lbs. of 
metal, and realized a j^rofit of more than 
$1,000,000 annually. The Americans who 
claimed the mine directed their attention to 
the discovery of new localities of the ore, 
and succeeded in finding it upon the same 
range of hills within less than a mile of the 
old workings. Here they opened a new 
mine in December, 1858, which they named 
the Enroquita, and in June, 18G0, a com- 
pany was formed in New York for working 
it under the name of the " California Quick- 
silver Mining Association." The following 
are the returns of their operations to the 
latest dates: in September, 1859, the prod- 
uct of mercury was 14,400 lbs. ; October, 
28,650 ; November, 27,525 ; December, 
28,425; January, 1860, 27,000; February, 
16,950; March, 25,500; April, 33,700; 
May, 46,275 ; June, 48,750 ; July, 50,000 ; 
August, 79,866 ; September, 66,096. The 



increase of production, hereafter, will be 
limited rather by the capacity of the re- 
ducing apparatus than by that of the mine. 
Twenty -four retorts for distilling the mer- 
cury are now in operation, 6 of which have 
been started since August, 1860, From the 
report of October 11, 1860, it appears that 
a new vein has also been opened, in which 
20 men are employed, working in solid cin- 
nabar without having encountered the 
boundary walls of the lode. The total ex- 
penditure for mining, for machinery, etc., 
up to October 15, 1860, had amounted to 
$275,000, all of which has been paid out of 
the proceeds of the mine, leaving a consid- 
erable balance on hand. The company 
owns another mine also, called the Provi- 
dencia, which has produced some cinna- 
bar. 

The operations at the Enrequita mine are 
carried on from the face of the hill, some 5 
or 6 levels one above another being carried 
into the mountain up and down its slope. 
The most extensive of these is the adit level 
at the base, which is about 600 feet long. 
Shafts are sunk from tliis to the depth of 
about 50 feet ; but the principal workings 
arc in the upper levels for 300 feet over the 
adit. These are exceedingly irregular, ow'- 
ing to the unequal distribution of the ore 
through the argillaceous slates. It lies in 
beds included between the strata of these 
lower Silurian rocks, dipping with them at 
a very steep angle, and winding with the 
contortions of the strata. The workings 
follow the bunches of ore as they lead up or 
down, and to the right or left. Shafts occa- 
sionally penetrate from one level to another, 
but no regular system of working appears to 
have been adopted. With the cinnabar is 
intermixed some arsenical iron and copper 
pyrites, and the ore and slates are both trav- 
ersed by veins of carbonate of lime, some 
of which are retained in hand specimens of 
the cinnabar. 

On the same range of hills, at its western 
extremity, the Santa Clara Mining Company, 
of Baltimore, has opened a mine called the 
Guadalupe, the product of which for the 
year 1860 was about 200,000 lbs. 

The total production of the quicksilver 
mines, from the beginning of 1853 to the 
close of 1858, was about 177,578 flasks, or 
13,318,350 lbs. In 18G6, the California 
mines produced 3,505,878 Ibs^ and in 18G7, 
3,840,957 lbs. Litigation has prevented 
most of them from being fully worked. 



114 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



METALLURGIC TREATMENT. 

From cinnabar not contaminated with 
strange metals, the method of obtaining the 
fluid mercury is very simple. In the early 
workings of the New Alraaden mine, the 
clean ores were placed in the common " try 
pots," such as are used by the whalers, and 
a cover being tightly luted on, a fire was 
started under them, and the mercurial vapors 
escaped through a tube inserted in the lid 
and were condensed in cold vessels. After- 
ward furnaces were constructed in brick-work 
upon a large scale, each one provided with a 
chamber or oven 7 feet long, 4 feet wide, and 
5 feet high, corresponding to the chamber 
of the reverberatory furnaces ; and into this 
was introduced a charge of 10,000 lbs. of 
clean ore separated from the poorer portions 
after the whole had been broken up. With 
the ore was mixed a portion of lime to com- 
bine with and retain the sulphur. A parti- 
tion of brick-work separated the oven from 
the fire-room, and the bricks in this partition 
were so laid as to leave open spaces for the 
flame from the burning wood to pass 
through. On the opposite side of the oven 
another partition separated this from a 
chamber of its own size, the only communi- 
cation between them being by a square hole 
in one of the corners close to the roof. 
This chamber connected with another by an 
opening in the opposite corner near the 
floor, and this arrangement was extended 
through eight chambers. Between the last 
one and the tall wooden flues through which 
the smoke and vapors finally passed out into 
the open air was placed a long wooden box 
provided with a showering apparatus. As 
the cinnabar was volatilized by the flame 
playing over the charge, the vapors were 
carried through the condensing chambers, 
depositing in each a portion of mercury, and 
in the showering box they underwent their 
final condensation. From the bottom of 
each chamber the metal flowed in gutto -s to 
the main conduit which led to the great iron 
reservoir sunk in the ground. From this it 
was poured into flasks through brushes 
which intercepted the scum of oxide of mer- 
cury. The method proved very wasteful, 
from the leakage of the vapors through the 
brick-work ; and it ha<, been abandoned for 
an improved process, in which the pulverized 
ores mixe<l with quicklime are charged into 
large cast-iron retorts very similar in their 
form and setting to those employed at the 



gas-works. Three are set together in a 
bench of brick-work, and each one is fur- 
nished with an eduction pipe inserted in 
the end and leading down into water con- 
tained in a large cylindrical condenser of 
iron. This is placed along the front line of 
the furnace, so as to receive the vapors from 
all tlic retorts. The mercury, as it is con- 
densed, falls down to the bottom, and is let 
out through a pipe by a contrivance that pre- 
vents the water flowing with it from the con- 
denser. At the Enrcquita mine each bench 
of three retorts requires a little over a cord 
of oak wood a day for heating. Four bench- 
es, in operation from September, 1859, em- 
ployed 6 men in charffinir and discharffinof, 
working m 2 shitts ot 3 men, besides 3 fire- 
men, each working 8 hours. Two men be- 
sides these Avere employed in mixing the ores 
for the retorts. In June, 1860, the produc- 
tion of these furnaces, from 1000 cargas of 
ore of 300 lbs. each, was about 50,000 lbs., 
or about 17 per cent. 

In conducting the furnaces, the workmen 
are seriously affected by inhaling the mercu- 
rial vapors. They are sometimes even sali- 
vated, and are often obliged to abandon the 
business for a time. The horses and mules 
also suffer from the noxious fumes, and many 
are lost in consequence. But no injurious 
eflfects are experienced among those em- 
ployed in the mines, the cinnabar being al- 
ways handled with impunity. 

The view of the works presents their ap- 
pearance in 1852, as sketched by J. R. Bart- 
lett, Esq. It was first published in his " Per- 
sonal Xarrative" (New York, 1854). 

USEFUL APPLICATIONS OF MERCURY. 

Tlie principal uses to which mercury is 
applied have already been named. The 
largest quantities are consumed in working 
gold and silver ores. The principle of the 
amalgamating process is explained in the 
account of the treatment of gold ores. In 
the arts amalgams are applied to many use- 
ful purposes, of which the most important is 
coating the backs of looking-glass plates with 
tin amalgam. Silver was originally em- 
ployed instead of tin, and the process is still 
called " silvering." It is conducted at sev- 
eral establishments in the United States on 
the old Venetian plan, which has been in 
use for 300 years. The largest mirrors are 
prepared by Messrs. Roosevelt & Sons, in 
New York, from the French plates which 
they import. The process is a simple one, 



SILVER — COBALT NICKEL — CHROME MANGANESE — TIN. 



115 



but is uttcnded with some difficulties arising 
from the imperfections wliicli will sometimes 
appear upon the coating, notwithstanding 
the particular care taken to avoid them. 
The health of the workmen also suffers, so 
that they cannot pursue the business more 
than a few years. The only precaution 
taken to protect them from the effects of 
the mercury is thorough ventilation. Fre- 
quent use of sulphur baths also is very ben- 
eficial. The method of silvering is as fol- 
lows : tables are prepared of stoncf made 
perfectly smooth, with grooves sunk around 
the edges. These are set horizontally, but 
can be raised a little at one end by a screw. 
Each table is covered with tinfoil carefully 
spread out over a larger surface than the 
plate will cover, and slips of glass being laid 
around three of the sides, the mercury is 
poured on till it covers the foil to the depth 
of about i of an inch. Its affinity for the 
tin, and the slips of glass, prevent its flowing 
off. The glass plate rendered perfectly 
clean is then slidden along the open side, 
the advancing edge being kept in the mer- 
cury, so that no air nor oxide of the metal 
can get between the plate and the amalgam. 
The plate, when in place, is secured and 
pressed down by weights laid upon it, and 
the table is raised a little to allow the excess 
of mercury to trickle oft" by the grooves and 
collect in a vessel placed on the floor to re- 
ceive it. After remaining thus for several 
hours, the plate is taken off" and turned over 
upon a frame. After several weeks the 
amalgam becomes liard, and the glass may 
then be set on edge. 

Amalgams of the precious metals are used 
for what are called the water-gilding and 
water-silvering methods of gilding and silver- 
ingapplied to buttons and various other metal- 
lic articles. These, being made chemically 
clean, are washed over with the amalgam 
contained in a large excess of mercury, and 
are then placed in a furnace and heated till 
the mercury is driven oft' by the heat, leaving 
a thin liim of the precious metal, which may 
then be burnished. 

Mercurial medicines, as calojnel, (the chlo- 
ride,) and blue mass, which is the metal re- 
duced to fine particles by long-continued 
trituration, and incorporated with twice its 
weight of confection of roses and liquorice 
root, are very largely prepared, especially 
for the southern and western states and the 
West India islands. The labor of triturating 
the mercury for blue mass has led to the in- 



troduction of ingenious machinery for the 
purpose, invented by Mr. J. W. W. Gordon 
of Baltimore, and by Dr. E. R. Squibb of 
Brooklyn, and worked by the latter at his 
pharmaceutical laboratory by steam power. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

SILVER — COB ALT — NICKEL — CHROME — 
MANGANESE— TIN. 

But few other ores of much importance 
are found in the United States, besides those 
of which accounts have been given ; and it 
remains to describe the occurrence and ap- 
plications of the ores of those metals only 
which are comprised in the heading of this 
chapter. 



The occurrence of this metal in the United 
States is chiefly limited to some of the lead 
ores ; and in very few of these, as noted in 
the chapter upon lead, has it been found 
in sufficient quantity to justify the working 
of the mines and separation of the silver. 
The Washington mine in Davidson co., N. 
C, is still worked with moderate success 
for both metals ; but the only promising 
silver mines are those of Arizona, near 
the Gila river in New Mexico, and the 
Washoe mines on the extreme western 
verge of the Utah territory. 

In the territory of Arizona, especially in 
that portion of it ceded to the United 
States under the Gadsden treaty, are numer- 
ous mines productive in silver, some of 
which were worked when the territory be- 
longed to old Spain. These are now at- 
tracting the attention of Americans, and in 
1859 and 1860, companies were organized 
in Cincinnati, New York, and St. Louis, for 
exploring and working them. The princi- 
pal mine is that of the Sonora Company, 
of Cincinnati. The locality is about 75 
miles south of Tucson, and about 270 
miles north of Guaymas, which is the chief 
port of the Gulf of California. Several 
mines in the vicinity were formerly worked 
by the Mexicans for silver, and abajidoned 
in consequence of Indian depredations and 
political troubles. The Sonora Comi)any 
commenced operations in 1858 upon a new 
discoverv, and have produced a considerable 
amount of silver, reduced from the ores at 
their works, at Arivaca, 7 miles from the 



116 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



mines. Seventy miles north of Tucson, 
operations were commenced in 1860, in 
anotlier locality, on the same mining range, 
by a company organized in New York, called 
the Maricopa Mining Company. Their mine 
aft'ords rich argentiferous copper ores, sam- 
ples of which have been brought to New 
York, and assayed by Prof. John Torrey, 
and other chemists. They proved to be 
vitreous copper, associated with carbonates, 
and yielded an average of over 50 per cent. 
of copper. The metal contained variable 
amounts of silver, worth from $40 to $80 
per ton. Gold was also detected in it. The 
outlet for this is also by Guaymas, 420 miles 
distant, through a region easily traversed by 
wagons, and upon long-established routes. 
The cost of transportation, by contracts of 
Mexicans, is at the rate of 5^ cents per lb., 
for the whole distance. In the vicinity of 
the mines, on the Gila river, it is proposed 
to reduce the ores. The region is on the 
Pacific slope of the range of the silver min- 
ing districts of Sonora and Durango, and its 
rock formations are granitic and metamor- 
phic, traversed by dikes of trap, and con- 
taining beds of quartz. 

On the liio Mimbres, 240 miles east of 
Tucson, are the Santa Kita del Cobre and 
Mimbres mines, from which 333,000 lbs. 
of copper are reported as having been de- 
livered in New York in 1860. The metal 
was smelted at the mines, transported through 
Texas to Port Lavacca, and thence to New 
York. Whether the ores contain silver or 
not, is not known. Besides the operations 
above named, others are in progress in Ari- 
zona, of which we have no details. The 
region is described in the " Personal Narra- 
tive" of J. R. Bartlett, Esq., and in the Con- 
gressional Pacific Railroad reports. 

The AYashoe ores are argentiferous gale- 
nas of richness varying between great ex- 
tremes, some of the best sorts which have 
been shipped to New York, and thence to 
England, containing enough silver to give 
them a value of $2000 per ton. The mines 
are in the inferior range of hills along the 
eastern base of the Sierra Nevada, and are 
met with over an extensive territory in the 
valley of the upper portion of Carson's 
River and many miles beyond this to the 
north. Those of most importance are in 
the vicinity of several new towns, called 
Virginia City, Silver City, Carson City, etc., 
about 160 miles north-east from Sacramento. 
From that point the crest of the Sierra Ne- 



vada is reached in 100 miles, nearly due 
east, and the remaining 60 miles is down 
the valley of Carson's River. The discov- 
eries of the silver ores were made the latter 
part of the year 1859, but it was known be- 
fore this that gold existed in the valley, 
and that the value of this metal was deteri- 
orated by the silver with which it was usu- 
ally alloyed. The opening of permanent veins 
of silver ores produced a great excitement 
throughout California, and led to an ex- 
traordi|iary emigration to the new mining 
district, and rapid development during the 
year 1800 of its resources. The consid- 
erable number of mines already in opera- 
tion, upon veins of unquestionable perma- 
nency, and the great richness of some of 
the ores, together with the variety of those 
already found, leave no room for doubting 
that this is a mining region of great impor- 
tance, and must largely add to the metallic 
productions of the extreme western states. 

The ores, on account of their complex 
character, are difficult to reduce with econ- 
omy, and the ordinary methods of obtain- 
ing the lead fail, when applied to compounds 
like these, which contain a large proportion 
of silica, from which the galena cannot be 
mechanically separated. The German method 
of treating such ores, employed at Clausthal, 
is to reduce them in small blast furnaces, 
with a flux of granulated cast iron, or of iron 
turnings, admitting only air enough to keep 
up the combustion of the fuel. The lead 
and silver are set free by the sulphur of the 
ore combining with the iron, and the forma- 
tion of infusible silicates of oxide of lead is 
prevented by guarding against the oxidation 
of lead, through too great access of air. The 
separation is, however, very imperfect in a 
single operation, and the rich slags obtained 
are roasted in order to convert the sulphuret 
of iron into oxide of iron, Avhich, combining 
with the silicates of the scoria^, forms verv 
fusible compounds, which are then returned 
to the furnace mixed with fresh charges of 
ore. The silver goes with the lead, and is 
separated by cupellation. 

COBALT. 

The ores of this metal are of rather rare 
occurrence, and are applied to practical pur- 
poses not to furnish the metal but its ox- 
ide, which is of value for its property of 
giving a beautiful blue color to glass with 
which it is melted, and of producing other 
fine colors when mixed with some other sub- 



SILVER COBALT NICKEL CHROME MANGANESE TIN. 



117 



stances. The ores are sought for all over 
the world for the supply of tlie British man- 
ufactories of porcelain, stained glass, etc. 
They are chiefly combinations of cobalt 
with arsenic, sulphur, and sometimes with 
nickel and iron. The compound known as 
smaltine, or arsenical cobalt, was obtained 
at Chatham, Conn., as hr back as 1787, and 
the mine has been worked for cobalt at dif- 
ferent times in the present century. The co- 
balt in the ore is associated with about an 
equal amount of nickel, and its proportion 
is said to have been less than two per cent. 
Cobaltine, which is a compound of sulphur 
19.3 per cent., arsenic 45.2, and cobalt 
35.5, is the most productive ore of this 
metal, but is not met with in this country. 
Varieties of pyritous cobalt have been found 
in Maryland in quantities too small for 
working ; and also at ]\iine la Motte in Mis- 
souri, associated with a black earthy oxide 
of cobalt and black oxide of manganese. 
In other places, also, oxide of cobalt, in 
small quantity, is a frequent accompaniment 
of manganese ores. Mine la Motte has fur- 
nished a considerable amount of the cobalt 
oxide, but the beds in which it is found are 
not of permanent character, and are so far 
exhausted as to be no longer worked with 
profit. A similar ore, accompanied with 
nickel, appears to be very abundantly dis- 
tributed among the talcose and quartzose 
slates in Gaston and Lincoln counties, North 
Carolina. It is thrown out with a variety 
of other ores, as galena, blende, titaniferous 
iron, etc.. in working the gold mines of this 
region ; and it is mixed among the great 
beds of hematite, found in the same district, 
which arc the product of the decomposition 
of beds of pyritous iron. In some places it 
is so abundant that the strata containing it 
are conspicuous where the roads pass over 
them, by the blackness of the gossan (de- 
composed ore) or wad. Prof. H. Wurtz, 
who describes these localities (see "American 
Journal of Science," 2d series, vol. xxvii., p. 
24), is of opinion that the earthy oxide of 
cobalt is the gossan of the sulphurct of this 
fnetal, existing unaltered in the rocks below. 
Oxide of cobalt, obtained in a crude 
state from the washed arsenical ores, is 
known as zaffre or saflor, and in this condi- 
tion it is a commercial article. It is refined 
by separating the arsenic, iron, and other for- 
eign substances, by precipitating them from 
the solution in hydrochloric acid ; and the ox- 
ide is finally obtained by precipitating with 



chloride of lime, and heating the product to 
redness. Smalt is a preparation of cobalt 
largely used in the .^rts as a coloring material, 
and consists of silicate of potash and cobalt. 
It is in fact a potash glass colored by silicate 
of cobalt, and is prepared as follows : Zaf- 
fre is melted in pots, with suitable propor- 
tions of pure sand and potash and a little 
saltpetre. The other metals combine to- 
gether and sink in a metallic mass, which 
is called speiss. The glass containing the 
oxide of cobalt is ladled out and ])our- 
ed into water to granulate it, and is then 
ground to powder. This being introduced 
into vats of water, the colored glass sub- 
sides in deposits, which gradually diminish 
in their proportions of oxide of cobalt. 
The first are of the deepest blue, and are 
called azure ; but of this, and of the succeed- 
ing fainter shades, there arc many varieties, 
distinguished by peculiar names. When 
finely powdered, smalt is applied to col- 
oring wall papers, and blueing linen, be- 
sides being incorporated with porcelain to 
impart to it permanent blue shades. The 
great value of oxide of cobalt, amounting to 
several dollars per lb., renders it an impor- 
tant object to fully develop the resources of 
the country in its ores, as well for export as 
for domestic use. In 1856 there Avere im- 
ported into Great Britain 428 tons of co- 
balt ore, and 34 tons of oxide of cobalt. 



Nickel is a metal of some commercial im- 
portance, and is employed chiefly for pro- 
ducing, with copper and zinc, the alloy 
known as German silver. The propoilions 
of these metals are not constant, but the 
most common in use are eight parts of copper 
to three each of nickel and zinc. The larger 
the proportion of copper, the more easily the 
plates are rolled ; but if moi'e is used than 
the relative amounts named, the copper soon 
becomes apparent in use. The new cent 
contains 12 parts of nickel to 88 of copper, 
and the manufacture of this adds somewhat 
to the demand. The metal has been mined 
at Chatham, Conn., and is met with at Mine 
la Motte and other localities where cobalt 
is found. It occurs in greatest abundance at 
an old mine in Lancaster county, I'cnn., 
where it is associated with copper ores. The 
mine was originally worked for copper, it is 
said, more than one hundred and thirty years 
ago, and was reopened for supplying nickel 
for the U. S, Mint, on the introduction of 



118 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITEDl STATES. 



the new cent in 1857. The sulphuret of 
nickel, containing, when pure, 64.9 per cent, 
of nickel, and 35.1 per cent, of sulphur, is in 
very large quantity, in two veins of great size, 
one of which has been traced over GOO feet, 
and the other over 900 feet in length. In 
1859 it was producing at the rate of 200 tons 
of nickel ore and ten tons of copper ore per 
month. A pyritous variety of nickel ore, 
called siegenite, is found at Mine la Motte, 
Missouri, and in Carroll county, Maryland. 
In Gaston and Lincoln counties. North Car- 
olina, similar ore was found by Prof Wurtz, 
as noticed in the remarks on cobalt, above. 

CHROME OR CHROMIUM. 

. The ore of this metal, known as chromic 
iron or chromate of iron, has been mined 
for many years in the United States, both 
for exportation and domestic use. It is the 
source whence the chrome colors are ob- 
tained that are largely used in the arts, es- 
pecially in dyeing and calico printing. The 
name of the metal, from a Greek word 
meaning color, was given in consequence of 
the fine colors of its compounds. It usually 
consists of the sesquioxide of chromium in 
proportion varying from 36 to 60 per cent., 
protoxide of iron from 20 to 37 per cent., 
alumina sometimes exceeding 20 per cent., 
and more or less silica, and sometimes mag- 
nesia. Its value consists only in the first- 
named ingredient. The localities of the ore 
are in the serpentine rocks of different parts 
of the United States, as in the Bare Hills, 
near Baltimore, and near the Maryland state 
line on the southern edge of Chester and 
Lancaster counties, Pennsylvania. In small 
quantities the ore is met with at Hobo- 
ken, Staten Island, and other places near 
New York city. It is found in several 
towns in Vermont, but the largest veins of 
it arc in Jay, in the northern part of the 
state. The composition of this ore was 
found by Mr. T. S. Hunt to be 49.9 of 
green oxide or sesquioxide of chromium, 
48.96 of protoxide of iron, and 4.14 per 
cent, of alumina, silica, and magnesia. 
Though the quantity of the ore in this re- 
gion is reported to be large, the principal 
supplies of the country have been obtained 
in Maryland, and from the mines just over 
the state line in Pennsylvania. The ore, 
as recently as 1854, was found in loose frag- 
ments among the disintegrated materials of 
the serpentine upon the tracts called the 
barrens, and was gathered up from the val- 



leys and ravines, and dug out in sinking 
shallow pits and trenches over the surface. 
The ore thus obtained was called " sand 
chrome," and for a time it had been worth 
$45 per ton, and thousands of tons had 
been collected and shipped, principally to 
Baltimore. At the period named these su- 
perficial deposits were mostly exhausted, 
and the value of the ore was only about 
$25 per ton. This, however, was sufficient 
to sustain regular mining operations, which 
were then carried on upon the veins found 
in the serpentine, a little west uf the east 
branch of the Octorara Creek. Wood's 
chrome mine, near the Horse-shoe Ford, 
was at that time about 150 feet deep, and 
the workings had been extended north-east 
and south-west about 300 feet, upon an 
irregular vein of chrome ore, which lay at 
an inclination of about 45° with the hor- 
izon toward the north-west. The ore, in 
places, formed bunches, which attained a 
width of 20 feet, and then thinned away 
to nothing. Four men obtained from the 
mine 7 or 8 tons of excellent ore a day, 
the best of which was directly placed in 
barrels for the foreign market, and the 
poorer was dressed and washed for the Bal- 
timore, and other home markets. The state 
line mine, in the same vicinity, worked to 
about the same depth, had produced several 
thousand tons. The supplies of this ore are 
always of uncertain continuance. 

Useful Applications. — Chromate of 
iron is used chiefly in the production of 
chromate of potash, and from this the 
other useful chromatic salts are obtained. 
The object in view in the chemical treat- 
ment of the ore is to convert the sesqui- 
oxide of chromium into the peroxide gr 
chromic acid, and cause this to combine 
with potash. This may be effected by vari- 
ous methods, as by exposing a mixture of 
the pulverized ore and of saltpetre (nitrate 
of potash) to a strong heat for some hours. 
The chrome is peroxidized at the expense of 
the oxygen of the nitric acid of the salt- 
petre, and the chromic acid combines with 
the potash ; or if the ore is mixed with car- 
bonate of potash and calcined, the peroxida- 
tion of the chrome is effected by admission 
of air into the furnace, and the same prod- 
uct is obtained as in the employment of 
saltpetre. The introduction of lime hastens 
the operation. Other mixtures also are 
used for the same purpose. When the cal- 
cined matter, having been drawn out from 



SILVER — COBALT — NICKEL — CHROME — MANGANESE TIN. 



119 



the furnace, is lixiviated with water, the 
clironuitc of potash is dissolved and washed 
out, and is afterward recovered in the form 
of yellow crystals on evaporatinrj the water. 
From chromate of potash the other salts are 
readily produced. Chrome yellow, used as 
a paint, is prepared by mixing chromate of 
potash with a soluble salt of lead, and col- 
lecting; the yellow precipitate of chromate of 
lead which falls. A bright red precipitate 
is obtained by thus employing a salt of mer- 
cury, and a deep red with salts of silver. 
Chrome green is produced by mixing I'rus- 
sian blue with chrome yellow. Some new 
ancl very interesting compounds of the ses- 
quioxide of chromium with different bases 
have been recently obtained by Prof. A. K. 
Eaton of New York, and in consequence 
of their decided colors and the extraordi- 
nary permanency of these against powerful 
reagents applied to remove them, the salts 
were employed for printing bank-notes. 
Though they proved to be all that was re- 
quired as to the colors themselves, the steel 
plates were so rapidly cut by the excessively 
sharp and hard powders, however finely tkey 
were ground, that it was found necessary to 
abandon their use. The new salts were chro- 
mites — that of iron having a dark purple col- 
or ; of manganese, a lighter shade of the 
same ; of copper, a rich blueish black ; of 
zinc, a golden brown ; of alumina, a green, 
somewhat paler than that of the sesquiox- 
ide. 

MANGANESE. 

Though this is a metal of no value of it- 
self, one of its ores, called pyrolusite, is a 
mineral of some commercial importance, 
chiefly on account of the large proportion 
of oxygen it contains, part of which it 
can be easily made to give up when simply 
heated in an iron retort. The composition 
of pyrolusite, or black oxide of manganese, 
is 03.4 per cent, of manganese, and 36.6 
per cent, of oxygen. It is a hard, steel- 
gray ore, resembling some of the magnetic 
iron ores, and is often found accompanying 
iron ores, especially the hematites. In the 
United States it is met with in various lo- 
calities along the range of the hematites, 
from Canada to Alabama, and has been 
mined to considerable extent at Chittenden 
and Bennington,Vermont; WestStockbridge 
and Sheffield, Mass. ; on the Delaware river, 
and near Kutztown, Berks co., Penn. ; and 
abounds in diflferent parts of the gold region, 



as on Hard-labor Creek, Edgefield District, 
S, C. Usually the ore is found in loose 
pieces among the clays which fill the iiTegu- 
lar cavities between the limestone strata; 
its quaTitity is of course very uncertain, 
and its mines are far from being of a perma- 
nent character. Oxide of iron is commonly 
mixed with the manganese ore, reducing its 
richness, and at the same time seriously in- 
juring it for some of the purposes to which 
it is applied. As obtained from the mines, 
the assorted ore is packed in barrels and 
sent to the chemical establishments, Avhere 
it is employed principally in the manufac- 
ture of chloride of lime or bleaching pow- 
der. For this purpose the pulverized black 
oxide of manganese is introduced into hydro- 
chloric acid, and this being heated a double 
decomposition takes place, a portion of its 
chlorine is expelled, and the hydrogen that 
was combined with it unites with a part of 
the oxygen of the pyrolusite. The chlo- 
rine, which it was the object of the process 
to obtain, is then brought in contact with 
hydrate of lime, and uniting with the cal- 
cium base, forrns the bleaching powder. A 
similar result is obtained by mixing the ox- 
ide of manganese with chloride of sodium 
(common salt), and adding sulphuric acid. 
13y these operations a weight of oxygen 
equal to about one third that of the pure 
ore may be obtained, and this may be ap- 
plied to any of the purposes for wliich oxy- 
gen not absolutely pure is required. Black 
oxide of manganese is also used to decolor- 
ize glass stained green by the presence of 
the protoxide of iron. Its own amethystine 
tint is supposed to neutralize the optical ef- 
fect of the greenish hue of the iron. I^ure 
pyrolusite, free from iron, might be shipped 
to profit to Liverpool, where it is worth !$35 
to S^40 per ton, but inferior ore would in- 
volve bills of cost. The chemically j)repared 
pemianganate of potassa has come into ex- 
tensive use as an anti-septic, of late years. 



The very useful metal, tin, is not one of 
the products of this country, and there is 
no encouragement for hoping that its ores 
will ever be found in workable quantity. Its 
presence has been recognized in a few small 
crystals of oxide of tin, found in Chester- 
field and Goshen, Mass., and it has been de- 
tected as a mere trace in the iron ores of 
the Hudson, and iron and zinc ores of New 
Jersey ; it is also associated with some of 



120 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



the gold ores of Virginia. In the town of 
Jackson, N. H., is a vein of arsenical iron, 
containing thin streaks of oxide of tin. There 
have been discovered, also, some of the tin 
ores though not as yet in large quantity in 
Maine, iu Missouri, in Texas, and in Califor- 
nia. The last named, it is thought, may yet 
furnish considerable supplies. Tin is impor- 
ted chiefly from the mines of Cornwall, Eng- 
land, and from Banca, and other islands of 
the Malay archipelago. The United States 
is one of the largest consumers of tin, sheet 
tin having been applie^l, through the inge- 
nuity of the workers of this article in Con- 
necticut, to the manufacture of a variety of 
useful utensils. What is called sheet tin is 
really sheet iron coated with a very thin 
layer of tin. The sheets are prepared iu 
England by dipping the brightened iron 
sheets into a bath of melted tin. The pro- 
cess has been applied to coating articles 
made of iron, which are thus protected 
from rusting ; and zinc is also used for sim- 
ilar purposes. Such are stirrups, bridle-bits, 
etc. Cast-iron j^ots and saucepans are tin- 
ned on the inside by melted tin being poured 
in and made to flow over the surface, which 
has been made chemically clean to receive 
the metal. The surface is then rubbed with 
cloth or tow. Tin is imported in blocks or 
ingots, and the metal is applied to the prep- 
aration of various alloys, as bronze or bell- 
metal, composed of copper and tin in vari- 
able proportions, commonly of 78 parts of 
copper, and 22 of tin ; gun-metal, copper 90, 
and tin 10; pewter, of various proportions 
of tin and lead, or when designed for pewter 
plates, of tin 100, antimony 8, bismuth 2, 
and copper 2 ; and soft solder, consisting of 
tin and lead, usually of two parts of the 
former to one of the latter. Bismuth is 
sometimes added to increase the fusibility 
of the alloy. 



CHAPTER IX. 

COAL. 

To the early settlers of the American colo- 
nies the beds of mineral coal they met with 
were of no interest. In the abundance of the 
forests around them, and with no manufac- 
turing operations that involved large con- 
sumption of fuel, they attached no value to 
the black stony coal, the real importance of 
which was not in fact appreciated even in 



Europe until after the invention of the steam 
engine. The earliest use of mineral coal was 
probably of the anthracite of the Lehigh re- 
gion, though it may be that the James River 
bituminous coal mines, 12 miles above Rich- 
mond, were worked at an earlier period than 
the Pennsylvania anthracites. The region 
containing the latter belonged to the tribes 
of the Six Nations, until their title was ex- 
tinguished and the proprietary government 
obtained possession, in lV49, of a territory 
of 3750 square miles, including the southern 
and middle of the three anthracite coal-fields. 
In 1768 possession was acquii-ed of the north- 
ern coal-field, and at the same time of the 
great bituminous region west of the Alle- 
ghany mountains. The existence of coal in 
the anthracite region could not have escaped 
the notice of the whites who had explored 
the country, for its great beds were exposed 
in many of the natural sections of the river 
banks and precipitous hills, and down the 
mountain streams pieces of coal, washed out 
from the beds, were abundantly scattered. 
The oldest maps now known, dating as far 
back as 1770, and compiled from still older 
ones, designate in this region localities of 
"coal;" but these were probably not re- 
garded as giving any additional value to the 
territory. The first recorded notice of its 
use was in the northern basin by some black- 
smiths in 1770, only two years after the 
whites came in possession; and in 1775 a 
boat load of it was sent down from Wilkes- 
barrc to the Continental armory at Car- 
lisle. This was two years after the laying 
out of the borough of Wilkesbarre by the 
Susquehanna Land Company of Connecti- 
cut. From this time the coal continued to 
be used for mechanical operations by smiths, 
distillers, etc.; and according to numerous 
certificates from these, published in 1815, 
in a pamphlet by Mr. Zachariah Cist of 
Wilkesbarre, they had found it very much 
better for their purposes, and more econom- 
ical to use than Virginia bituminous coal, 
though at the enormous price of 90 cents 
a bushel. Gunsmiths found it very conven- 
ient for their small fires, and one of them, 
dating his certificate December 9, 1814, 
stated that he had used it for 20 years, con- 
suming about a peck a day to a fire, which 
was sutficient for manufticturing 8 musket- 
barrels, each barrel thus requiring a quart 
of coal. Oliver Evans, the inventor of the 
steam engine, certifies in the same pamphlet 
to his having used it for raising steam, for 



COAL. 



121 



wliich it possessed properties superior to those 
of any other fuel. Judge Fell of Wilkcs- 
barre applied it to warming houses in 1808, 
and contrived suitable grates for this use of 
it ; but the cheapness of wood and the 
greater convenience of a fuel which every 
one understood how to use, long prevented 
its general adoption. In tlie iirst volume 
of the " Memoirs of the Historical Society 
of Pennsylvania," T. C. James, M.D., gives 
"a brief account of the discovery of anthra- 
cite coal on the Lehigh," in which he de- 
scribes a visit he made to the Mauch Chunk 
mountain in 1804, where he saw the immense 
body of anthracite, into which several sjnall 
pits had then been suidc, and which was 
afterward worked, as it is still, as an open 
quarry. He states that he commenced to 
burn the coal that year, and had continued 
to use it to the time of making this commu- 
nication in 18'26. The discovery of this fa- 
mous mass of coal was made in 1791, and 
in 1793 the " Lehigli Coal Mine Company" 
was formed to work it. But as there were 
no facilities for transporting the coal down 
the valley of the Lehigh, nothing was done 
until 1814, when, at great labor and expense, 
20 tons were got down the river and were 
delivered in Philadelphia. Two years be- 
fore this a few wagon loads had been re- 
ceived there from the Schuylkill mines ; but 
the regular trade can hardly be said to have 
commenced until 1820, when the receipts in 
Philadelphia amounted to 365 tons. Such 
was the commencement of the great anthra- 
cite trade of Pennsylvania, which in the 
course of 45 years has been steadily in- 
creasing, till it now reaches the enormous 
amount of l5,3G8,437 (ons for the year 1867, 
and sustains numerous branches of metallur- 
gical and mechanical industry, the possible 
dependence of which upon this fuel and 
source of power was hardly dreamed of 
wdien its mines were first opened. 

The existence of bituminous coal west of 
the AUeghanies was probably known as early 
as was that of anthracite in the eastern part 
of Pennsylvania; and on the western rivers 
it could not fail to have been noticed by the 
early missionaries, voyageurs, and hunters. 
In the old maps of 1770 and 1777 the oc- 
currence of coal is noted at several points 
on the Ohio. A tract of coal land was taken 
up in 1785 near the present town of Clear- 
field, on the head-waters of the west branch 
of the Suscjuehanna, by Mr. S. Boyd, and in 
1804 he sent an ark load of the coal down 



the Susquehanna to Columbia, Lancaster 
county, which, lie states, caused much sur- 
prise to the iidiabitants, that "an article Avith 
whicli they were wholly unacquainted should 
be thus brought to their own doors." This 
was the commencement of a trade which has 
since been prosecuted to some extent by 
running rafts of timber loaded with coal, and 
sometimes with pig iron also, from the head- 
waters to the lower portion of the Susque- 
lianna. The bituminous coal mines on the 
James River, 12 miles above Richmond, in 
Virginia, were also worked during the last 
century, but at how early a period we are 
ignorant. In an account of them in the first 
volume of the " American Journal of Sci- 
ence," published in 1818, they arc spoken 
of as already having been worked 30 years. 

VARIETIES OF COAL. 

The mineral coals are found of various 
sorts, which are distinguished by peculiari- 
ties of appearance, composition, and proper- 
ties. Derived from vegetable matters, they 
exhibit in their varieties the successive chang- 
es which these have undergone from the 
condition of peaty beds or deposits of lig- 
neous materials — first into the vai'iety known 
as brown coal or lignite, in which the bitu- 
minous property appears, while the fibre 
and structure of the original woody masses 
is fully retained ; next in beds of bituminous 
coal comprised between strata of shales, fire- 
clay, and sandstones ; and thence through 
several gradations of diminishing proportions 
of bitumen to the hard stony anthracite, the 
composition of which is nearly pure carbon; 
and last of all in this series of steps attend- 
ing the conversion of wood into rock, the 
vegetable carbon is locked up in the miner- 
al graphite or plumbago. These steps are 
clearly traceable in nature, and in all of them 
the strata which include the carbonaceous 
beds have undergone corresponding changes. 
The clayey substratum that supports the 
peat appears under the beds of mineral coal 
in the stony material called fire-clay (used 
when ground to make fire-brick) ; the 
muddy sediments such as are found over 
some of the great modern peat deposits, ap- 
pear in the form of black shales or slates, 
which when pulverized return to their muddy 
consistency ; the beds of sand, such as are 
met with in some of the peat districts of 
Europe interstratified with difterent peat 
beds, are seen in the coal-measures in beds 
of sandstones ; and the limestones which also 



122 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



occur in the same group of strata, represent 
ancient beds of calcareous marls. The slow 
progression of these changes is indicated by 
the different ages of the geological formations 
in which the several varieties occur. BeSs 
of peat are of recent formation, though 
some of them are still so old, that they are 
found at different depths, one below another, 
separated by intervening layers of sand, 
clay, and earth. Brown coal, or lignite, is 
commonly included among the strata of 
the tertiary period ; the bituminous coals 
are in the secondary formations; and the an- 
thracites, though contained in the same ge- 
ological group with the great bituminous 
coal formation, are in localities where the 
strata have all been subjected to the action 
of powerful agents which have more or less 
metamorphosed them and expelled the vola- 
tile bitumen from the coal. The graphite or 
plumbago is in still older groups, or in those 
which have been still more metamorphosed 
by heat. 

All these varieties of fossil fuel are found 
in the United States. Peat beds of small 
extent ai-e common in the northern portion 
of the country, and in some parts of New 
England are much used for fuel, and the 
muck, or decomposed peat, as a fertilizer to 
the soil. In the great swamps of southern 
Virginia, the Carolinas, and Georgia, vegeta- 
ble deposits of similar nature are found upon 
a scale more commensurate with the extent 
of the ancient coal-beds. Lignite is not 
found in workable beds, as in some parts of 
Germany and England, but in scattered de- 
posits of small extent among the tertiary 
clays, chiefly near the coast of New Jersey, 
Delaware, and Maryland, and in the west- 
ern territories. The distribution of the true 
coal formations will be pointed out after des- 
ignating more particularly the characters of 
the difterent coals. All of these consist of 
the elements carbon, hydrogen, oxygen, and 
nitrogen; the carbon being in part free, 
and in part combined with the other ele- 
ments to form the volatile compounds that 
exist to some extent in all coals. Earthy 
matters which form the ash of coals are al- 
ways intermixed in some proportion with 
the combustible ingredients, and water, also, 
is present. When coals are analyzed for 
the purpose of indicating their heating qual- 
ity by their composition, it is enough to de- 
termine the proportions of fixed carbon, of 
volatile matter, and of ash which they con- 
tain. How the combined carbon, hydrogen. 



oxygen, and the little nitrogen in their com- 
position, may be distributed in the forms of 
carburetted hydrogen, ammonia, the bitu- 
minous oils, etc., cannot be ascertained by 
analysis, as the means employed to separate 
most of these compounds cause their ele- 
ments to form other combinations among 
themselves: the determination of the ulti- 
mate proportions of all the elements would 
serve no practical purpose. So, if it be re- 
quired to prove the fitness of any coal for 
affording illuminating gas, or the coal oils, it 
must be submitted to experiments having 
such objects only in view ; and even their 
capacity for generating heat is better deter- 
mined by comparative experiments in evapo- 
rating water, than by any other mode. The 
bituminous coals are characterized by their 
large proportion of volatile matter, which, 
when they are heated, is expelled in various 
inflammable compounds, that take fire and 
burn, accompanied by a dense, black smoke 
and a peculiar odor known as bituminous. 
If the operation is conducted without access 
of air, as in a closed platinum crucible, the 
fixed carbon remains behind in the form of 
coke ; and by removing the cover to admit 
air, this may next be consumed, and the re- 
siduum of ash be obtained. By several 
weighings the proportions are indicated. 
Coals containing 18 per cent, or more of 
volatile matter are classed among the bi- 
tuminous varieties ; but as the proportion of 
this may amount to 70 per cent, or more, 
there is necessarily a considerable difference 
in the characters of these coals, though their 
most marked peculiarities are not always 
owing to the different amounts of volatile 
matter they contain. Thus, some sorts, called 
the " fat bituminous," and " caking coals," 
that melt and run together in burning, and 
are especially suitable for making coke, con- 
tain about the same proportion of volatile 
matter with the " dry coals," as some of the 
cannel and other varieties, which burn with- 
out melting, and do not make good coke. 
Other varieties are especially distinguished 
for their large proportion of volatile ingre- 
dients ; such are the best cannels, and those 
light coals which have sometimes been mis- 
taken for asphaltum, as the Albert coal of 
the province of New Brunswick. These va- 
rieties are eminently qualified for producing 
gas or the coal oils; but have little fixed car- 
bon, and consequently can produce little 
coke. Coals that contain from 11 to 1 8 per 
cent, volatile matter, are known as semi-bi- 



COAL. 



123 



tuininous, and partake both of the qualities 
of the true bituminous coals, in itfuitinij and 
buriiiu!^ freely, and of the anthracite in the 
condensed and lon-f-conlinued heat they 
produce. The Maryland coals, and the Ly- 
kens valley coal of Pennsylvania, are of 
this character. The true anthracites con- 
tain from 2 to 6 per cent, of gaseous mat- 
ters, which by heat are evolved in carbu- 
retted hydrogen and water, even when the 
coal has been iirst freed from the water me- j 
chanically held. Their greatest proportion | 
of solitl carbon is about 9;5 per cent. There : 
remains a class which has been designated 
as semi-anthracite, containing from G to 11 j 
per cent, of combustible volatile matter. | 
These coals burn with a yellowish flame, un- , 
til the gas derived from the combination of 
its elements is consumed. j 

The earthy ingredients in coals, forming 
their ash, are derived from the origiiuil wood 
and from foreign substances introduced , 
among the collections of ligneous matters ; 
that make up the coal-beds. The ash j 
is unimportant, excepting as the material 
which produces it takes the place of so much 
combustible matter. In some coals, espec- 
ially those of the Schuylkill region, it is red, 
from the presence of oxide of iron, and iu 



otliers it is gray, as in the Lehigh coals. 
This distinction is used to designate some 
of the varieties of anthracite; but the qual- 
ity of these coals is more dependent on the 
quantity of the ash, than on its color. PVom 
numerous analyses of the Schuylkill red ash 
coals an average of 7.29 per cent, of ash 
was obtained, and of the white ash anthracite, 
4.02 per cent. Coals producing red asli are 
more likely to clinker in burning than those 
containing an equal amount of white ash. 
In some varieties of coal the proportion of 
earthy inatter is so great that the substance 
approaches the character of the bituminous 
shales, and may be called indilTercntly ei- 
ther shale or coal. Though such materials 
make but poor fuel, some of them have 
proved very valuable from the large amount 
of gas and of oily matters they afford. The 
most remarkat)le of this class is that known 
as the Boghead cannel. This is largely 
mined near Glasgow, in Scotland, and is im- 
ported into New York to be used in the 
manufacture of coal oil. It is a dull black, 
stony-looking substance, having little resem- 
blance to the ordinary kinds of coal. Its 
composition is given for comparison with 
that of other coals, in the following ta- 
ble :— 



Authority. 



Specific 
Gnivity. 



Phenowith Vi'in, Pcnn 

Pcacli M<i\iut:iin, I'fiiii. ; mean of 40 analyses. . 



.H. D. Rosers L.'SO 

. W. li. Jolinsou 1.46 



l?l 



L-ickawannd W. E. Johnson 1.42 

1.56 

Everett 1.37 

. T. Jackson... 1.85 
I.fi9 



Heaver .Vleailow 

{ Piii'.e's Mountain, Montgomery Co., Virginia .\. II 

I Portsmouth. Kho,le Inland Dr. ( 

Manslielil, Mass 



W. R. Johnson 1..31.3 

1.35 

.' 1.272 



Atkinson's and Temploman'.s, Maryland ; aver 

j age of 2 spe.cimens , 

! George's Creek Maryland '. 

Iltt^biire. Pennsylvania B. Sillinian, jr.. 

Canneiion, Indiana W. R. Johnson 

Black Heath, J:i:nes Uiver, Virginia '■ 

Monn>e Co.. 8. Illinois J. G. Norwood 1. 

1 La Salle Co., N Illinois " 1, 

.Mbert Coal, New Brunswick B. Sillinian, jr 1 

Grayson (Ky.) oannel " 1 

Breekenridsru (Ky.) cannel . " 1 

Boirhead, hlack c'annel Dr. Penny 1 

(^ Bogheail, brown " l 



246 

237 
129 
371 
150 
21S 
ItiO 



Carbon. 



94.10 
80.09 

88.98 
9l.fi4 
89.25 

a5.s4 

87.40 

76.69 

70.75 

64.72 
59.47 
68.79 
58.70 
55.10 
36.04 
14.36 
27.16 
9.25 
7.10 



Water and 

other 

Vol. Mat. 

1.40 
6.90 

6 36 
fi.s9 
2.44 
10.50 
6.20 



l(i.03 

82 95 
86.59 
32.07 
,8t>.20 
8i..90 
61.74 
62.1)3 
64.:iO 
62 70 
71.00 



Ashes. 



4.60 
6.95 

4.66 
1.4T 
8.80 
8.66 
6.40 

7. S3 

18.22 

2.81 
8.94 
8.64 
4.50 
3.00 
2.22 
23.63 
8.48 
26.50 
20.20 



A complete description of the coals, such 
as may be found in the Report of Prof. 
Walter II. Johnson (Senate Document, 28th 
Congress, No. 380), and presented, in a 
condensed form, in Johnson's Edition of 
" Knapp's Chemical Technology," presents 
many other features affecting the qualities 
of the coals, and their adaptation to special 
uses. Such are — I , their capacity for raising 



steam quickly ; 2, for raising it abundantly 
for the quantity used; 3, freedom from 
dense smoke in their combustion ; 4, freedom 
from tendency to crumble in handling ; 5, 
capacity, by reason of their density, and the 
shapes assumed by their fragments, of close 
stowage ; and 6, freedom from sulphur. The 
last is an important consideration, .-itfecting 
the value of coals proposed for use iu th» 



124 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



iron manufacture, sulphur, Avhich 13 often 
present in coal in the form of sulphuret of 
iron, having a very injurious effect upon the 
iron with which it is brought in contact 
when heated. It is again to be cautiously 
guarded against in selecting bituminous 
coals to be employed in steam navigation ; 
for by the heat generated by spontaneous 
decomposition of the iron pyrites, the eas- 
ily ignited bituminous coals may be readily 
set on tire. This phenomenon is of frequent 
occurrence in the waste heaps about coal 
mines, and large bodies of coal stored in 



yards and on board ships have been thus 
intlamed, involving the most disastrous con- 
sequences. In stowage capacity coals dif- 
fer greatly, and this should be attended to 
in selecting them for use in long voyages. 
Tendency to crumble involves waste. Dense 
smoke in consuming is objectionable in coals' 
required for vessels-of-vvar in actual service, 
as it must expose their position when it may 
be important to conceal it. The following 
table was prepared by Prof. Johnson to pre- 
sent some of the general results in these 
particulars of his experiments : — 



GENERAF, SCALE OF RELATIVE VALUES FORMED FROM THE AVERAGES OF EACH CLASS OF COAL 

SUBJECTED TO TRIAL. 
1. 

Maryland free-burning coals .1000 

Pennsylvania aiitliracite 977 

Pennsylvania bituminous 951 

Virginia (James River) bituminous 850 

Foreign bituminous 801 



2. 


3. 


4. 


5. 


000 


395 


880 


682 


986 


1000 


893 


319 


938 


?.90 


1000 


914 


757 


242 


948 


730 


741 


331 


948 


1000 



Column 1 gives the relative evaporative 
powers of equal weights of the coals ; 2, 
the same of equal bulks ; 3, their relative 
freedom from tendency to clinker ; 4, rapid- 
ity of action in evaporating water ; 5, facil- 
ity of ignition, or readiness with which 
steam is gotten up. The general results of 
experience in use, as well as of special trials 
systematically conducted upon a large scale, 
agree in these particulars — that while the 
bituminous coals are valuable for the greater 
variety of uses to which they are applica- 
ble, and especially for all purposes requiring 
flame and a diffusive heat, as under large 
boilers.; and while they are quickly brought 
into a state of combustion, rendering the 
heat they produce more readily available ; 
the anthracites afford a more condensed and 
lasting heat, and are to be preferred in many 
metallurgical operations, especially where 
great intensity of temperature is required. 
And for many purposes, the free-burning, 
semi-bituminous coals, which combine the 
useful properties of both varieties, are found 
most economical in use. 



GEOLOGICAL AND 



GEOGRAPHICAL 
TION. 



Tlie United States is supplied with coal 
from a number of coal-fields belonging to 
what are called the true coal-measures, or 
the carboniferous group, a series of strata 
sometimes amounting, in aggregate thick- 
ness, to 2000 and even 3000 feet, and 
whether found in this country or in Europe, 
readily recognized by the resemblance in 



the various members of its formation, its 
fossil organic remains, its mineral accompa- 
niments, and by its position relative to the 
other groups of rock which overlie and un- 
derlie it. The principal one of these fields 
or basins is that known as the Appalachian, 
which, commencing in the north-eastern 
part of Pennsylvania, stretches over nearly 
all the state west of the main Alleghany 
ridge, and takes in the eastern portion of 
Ohio, parts of Maryland, Virginia, Ken- 
tucky, Tennessee, the north-west corner of 
Georgia, and extends into Alabama as far as 
Tuscaloosa. Its total area, including a num- 
ber of neighboring basins, as those of the 
anthracite region to the east of the Alle- 
ghany ridge, which were originally a part of 
the same great field, is estimated at about 
70,000 square miles. A second great basin 
is that wliich includes the larger part of Il- 
linois, and the western portion of Indiana 
and of Kentucky. Its area is estimated at 
about 50,' '00 square miles ; the coal is bitu- 
minous, and largely charged with oil. 

The third coal field, now known as ibe 
Ro ky M untain Coal Field, is the lar<;est 
in the world, ernbracina; an area in .North 
America of 1, '250,000 square miles of w'liirh 
5 13,' 00 Kpiare miles is within the United 
States. It covers large ari-a-i in Texas, the 
Indian Territory, New JMexico, Kansas, Ne- 
braska, Iowa. Dakota, Montana, Wyoming, 
and Colorado. The coal is semi bituminous 
and of good (luality. The coal of the Pa- 
cific Sta es is mainly lignite, containing about 
50 per cent, of carbon, but on Vancouver's 




NIAP OF THE ANTHRACITE REGIO 



Copied by permission from 




PENNSYL VA^/A / By 

A.H.JQCZLVN 

:w Ain'jricuii Cyclopoilia. 



COAL. 



129 



whole area of this field has been computed 
at 57,000 square miles ; but its limits have 
never been accurately defiued. A fourth 
coal-field occupies the central portion of 
the southern peninsula of Michiijan, its area 
being about 13,350 square miles. Several 
small beds of bituminous coal are worked in 
this district, but they have only local impor- 
tance. A fifth coal-field is that of lihode Isl- 
and and south-eastern Massachusetts. The 
strata of this district are considered as be- 
longing to the true coal-measures, although, 
from the metamorjdiic action to which they 
have been subjected, their true cliaracter is 
very obscure. They contain a few beds of 
anthracite, very irregular in their dimen- 
sions, and much crushed. A number of 
mines have been opened, but the only one 
now worked is at Portsmouth, 8 miles 
north of Newport. Tn south-eastern Vir- 
ginia is a bituminous coal field, lying on 
both sides of the James River, a few miles 
above liichmond. The strata which contain 
the coal-beds of this district are recognized 
as members of later formation than those of 
the true coal-measures, being classed with 
the geological group known as the oolite, 
or lias ; and the coal-beds of central North 
Carolina, on Deep River, probably belong to 
the same |)osition in the geological column. 
Notwithstanding the limited area of this 
coal-field in \'irgini.-i, which is only about 25 
miles long and 8 to lU miles wide, it has pro- 
duced for more than sixty years past large 
quantities of coal chiefly for the supply of iron 
manufacturing establishments, and the gas- 
works along the seaboard to the north. The 
strata of these coal measures occupy a deep 
depression in the granitic rocks of this re- 
git)n, attaining in the centre of the basin a 
thickness of nearly 20U0 feet. They con- 
sist in great part of a micaceous sand- 
stone, and the two or three coal-beds are 
contained in the lower } 50 feet. A great 
bed at the bottom, which in some places 
exceeds 40 feet in thickness, and in others 
dwindles away to 4 or 5 feet only, appears 
to have been deposited upon the uneven 
granitic floor, from which it is separated by 
ordy a few inches of slate. Shafts Imve been 
sunk near the east border of the coal-field to 
the depth of nearly 9u0 feet. The amount 
of coal obtained of late years does not prob- 
ably exceed 13i),0i;0 tons per annum. A 
singular phenomenon is observed at one 
point in this district, where a coal-bed is 
penetrated and overlaid by a body of trap- 



rock. The coal near this rock is converted 
into a mass of coke, resembling that artifi- 
cially produced, except that it is more com- 
pact and of a duller lustre. 

A large amount of bituminous coal lias 
been brought to Boston and New York, for 
many years past, from a coal field belonging 
to the true coal-measures, in Nova Scotia 
and Cape Breton. The same formation ex- 
tends into New Brunswick, and ranges along 
the western part of Newfoundland, and has 
been estimated as comprising in all an area 
of 9000 square miles. The productive por- 
tions, however, are limited to a few locali- 
ties upon the coast of Nova Scotia and 
Cape J-5reton, and at these, beds of great 
thickness have been opcTied, and Avorked to 
the depth of from 20() to 450 feet. At the 
Pictou mines, opposite the southern point 
of Piince Edward's Island, one bed is 29 
feet thick. Another bed, at the Albion 
mines, 8i miles from Pictou, aff'ords 24 feet 
of good coal, and 12 more of inferior quali- 
ty ; and in Sydney, Cape Breton, are beds of 
11 feet, 9 feet, and feet, besides at least 
11 others of less thickness. At the South 
Joggins cliflTs, in Nova Scotia, the total 
thickness of all the strata of the coal-meas- 
ures was found by Mr. Logan to amount to 
14,571 feet, very much exceeding the tlii(;k- 
ness of the formation as observed in other 
places on the American continent. 

The strata which make up the cdal forma- 
tion, the principal varieties of which have 
already been named, are vegulaily laid one 
upon another in no particular order, and 
amount in aggregate thickness to severnl 
thousand feet, rarelv exceeding in the 
United States 3000 feet. Their thickness 
is ascertained by sections measured at dif- 
ferent localities, some giving one part of the 
column, and others other portions. Tn west- 
ern Pennsylvania the nearly horizontal beds 
of rock are often exposed in the sides (-f the 
precipitous hills, so that sections of several 
hundi'ed feet may be fully made up. Any 
peculiar member of the pile, a> a bed of 
limestone, occurring near the top < f the 
section,' may be recognized in other locali- 
ties, where by the dip of the strata it is 
brought to the lower levels, and the hills 
above it then present the succession of the 
higher members of the column; or if the 
layer taken as the starting ])oint be in the 
one case at the base, it will be f )und in the 
direction of the rising of the strata, at higher 
and higher elevations, and the lnwer mem- 




no Gtay «nd haH 

nucaceoua a I a t y 



5 Dark calearooos slate, 

6 LimeatoBe. 



19 Dark gray massive 



44 Sandaiones and 

ehales. 



LunesWDe, thin. 



5& Variegate*! shalei 
aod &aBdston«. 



».4 lamestOTie. 

lf> Shale & Bandstcne. 
" 'i.' Liintrttone. 

18 Dnrit gray sbale. 

1 Ctml. 

12 Shale i limestone. 

15 to 25 Thin bedded 
3 Limestone. l_saudstn. 



^ 0.10 Coal. 

ISIuo and buff sbule. 
13 Flaggy sandstones. 



15 Yellow Bhale. 
14 Slaty sandstone. 
11 to 20 Buffsbulea. 





3.6 Limestone. 
•20 Buff shales. 
0.9 Coal. 
iO Sandstone. 
4 Sliale. 
I CoaL 

I 56 Shales, t a n d - 
> stones & Ume- 
1 stones. 



i-^yS:^^- 2 Cool. 

4 Blue friable shale. 




^^ 6 Waynesburg coaL 

^^; 5 Soft ^ale. 

V? Gray sandstone. 



8 Limestoae. 
10 Sbale. 



20 Flafgy sandstoBSb 



10 Shale. 

IB Limestoae. 

S Black alat«. 

15 Slaty sandstone. 
''^ ^ 1 a c k caUareots 

slate. 

16 LiuieatoEe. 

20 Shale. 



35 Bronm shale. 
14 l^ttsborg coal. 



60 to 70 Calcareons and 
shaly beds, slaty 
■audstone, &c 



Green and olive shale. 



160 to 200 Greenisk 
slat^ & sandstone* 



30 Green, purple, and 
brown sbale. 



j 1 to 5 Limestone. 






[30 to 40 Slate and 
slaty sandstone. 



3 Lower Freepnrt coa\ 
olten cauuel. 




3 to4Kittannlngcoal 



30 Slate, shale, 0| 

sandstone. 
0.4 to B Iron ore. 
15 Ferriferous lime, 

stone. 
30 Slate and shale. 



3 to 4 Clarion coaL 
25 Slate and shale. 
1 to 2 Brookville coal. 
5 to 15 Shale. 



2 to 25 Brown A blark 

^ shale. 

to4 

[ 15 Shale and sand- 
ston. 
15 Shale and sand- 
stone. 
15 Shale and sand- 
stone, 
15 SIi.iIh and sand- 
stone. 



100 Sandstone nnd 
conglomerate. 



'40 to 80 Sandstone & 
green shale. 




t?0 Slaty sandstone. 
1 to 4 Sharon coaL 



COAL. 



131 



bers of the column will then be brought 
into view at the base of the hills. Thus, at 
Pittsburg, the hills opposite the city afford 
a section of 300 or 400 feet, and the marked 
stratum is liere the great coal-bed, which up 
the Alleghany river toward the north rises 
to higher and higher levels in the hills, and 
toward the south, up the Monongahela, sinks 
to lower levels, till it passes beneath the bed 
of the stream. By extetiding these obser- 
vations over the coal-tield, it is found that 
the whole series of strata maintain their 
general arrangcTnent, and the principal mem- 
bers of the group, such as an important coal- 
bed, a pe''uliar bed of limestone, etc., may be 
identified over areas of thousands of square 
miles. It is thus the sections have been pre- 
pared at many localities to complete the 
series, as presented on the opposite page, 
of the bituminous coal-measures of the ex- 
treme western part of Pennsylvania. The 
coal-beds introduced are those which are 
persistent over the greatest areas. Others 
occasionally appear in different parts of the 
column, and various other local differences 
may be detected, Owing to the irregularities 
in the stratification; thus sandstones and 
slates often thin out, and even gradually 
pass from one into the other. l>y their 
thinning out beds of coal separated by them 
in one localit\' may come together in another, 
and form one large bed ; and again, large coal- 
beds may be split by hardly perceptible di- 
visional seams of slate or shale, which may 
gradually increase, till they become thick 
strata, separating what was one coal-bed 
into two or more. The limestones, though 
generally thin, maintain their peculiar char- 
acters much better than the great beds of 
sandstone or shale, and are consequently 
the best guides for desisjnatinjx in the col- 
umns the position of the strata which ac- 
company them, above and below. The fire 
clay is almost universally the underlying 
stratum of the coal-beds. In the sections 
it is not distinguished from the shale-beds. 
The total thickness of all the measures, is 
from 2000 to 2500 feet. 

Such is the general system of tlie coal- 
bearing formation west of the Alleghan- 
ies. Every farm and every hill in the coal- 
field is likely to contain one or more beds 
of coal, of limestone, of good sandstone for 
building purposes, of fire clay, and some 
iron ore ; and below the surface, the series is 
continued down to the group of conglom- 
erates and sandstones, which come up 



around the margins of the coal-fields and 
define their limits. At Pittsburg this 
group, it is found by boring, as well as by 
the measurements of the strata in the hills 
toward the north, is about 600 feet below 
the level of the river. The coal-measures 
in this portion of the country are the high- 
est rock formation; but in the western terri- 
tories beyond the Mississippi they pass 
under later geological groups, as the creta- 
ceous and tiie tertiary. All the coals are 
bituminous, and the strata in which they are 
found arc little moved from the horizontal 
position in which they were originallv de- 
posited. They have been uplifted with the 
continent itself, and liave not been subjected 
to any local disturbences, such as in other 
regions have disarranged and metamorphosed 
the strata. 

East of the Alleghanies, in the narrow, 
elongated coal-fields of the anthracite re- 
gion,' a marked difference is perceived in the 
position assumed by the strata, and also in 
the character of the individual beds. They 
evidently belong to the same geological se- 
ries as the bituminous coal-measures, and 
the same succession of conglomerates, sand- 
stones, and red shales, is recognized below 
them ; but the strata have been tilted at va- 
rious angles from their original horizontal 
position, and the formation is broken up and 
distributed in a number of basins, or canal- 
shaped troughs, separated from each other 
by the lower rocks, Avhich, rising to the 
surface, form long narrow ridges outside of 
^uld around each coal-field. Those on each 
side being composed of the same rocks, sim- 
ilarly arranged, and all having been sub- 
jected to similar denuding action, a striking 
resemblance is observed, even on the map, 
in their outlines ; and in the ridges them- 
selves this is so remarkable that their shapes 
alone correctly suggest at once to those fa 
miliar with the geology of the country, the 
rocks of which they are composed. Upon 
the accompanying map, from the first vol. of 
the "New AmcricaT>-Cyclop;edia,'' these ba- 
sins are represented by the shaded portions, 
and the long, narrow ridges which surround 
the basins, and meet in a sharp curve at their 
ends, are indicated by the groups of four 
parallel lines. Within the marginal hills 
the strata of the coal-measures, and of the 
underlying formations, while retaining their 
arrangement in parallel sheets, are raised 
upon their edges an<l thrown into undulat- 
ing lines and sharp flexures ; and the extrac- 



132 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



Sharp Mi. 



Eig. 1 



LccuslMb 



tion of the coal, instead of "being con- 
ducted by levels driven into the side 
of the h'ills, is effected hy means of 
inclined shafts following down the 
course of the beds from the surface, 
or by vertical slopes sunk so as to 
cut them at considerable depths. The 
arrancjement of the strata in its gen- 
eral features is represented in the ac- 
companying wood cuts. Fig. 1 is a 
section from Sharp Mountain, on the 
south side of the Muuch Chunk sum- 
mit mine, across this great body of 
coal, and the higher coal-beds of the 
formation repeatedly brought to the 
surface by their chan<j:es of dip, to 
Locust Mountain, which bounds the 
basin on the north. Fig. 2 is a sec- 
tion across the same basin at Ta- 
maqua, six miles west from Mauch 
Chunk mine. In this section it is 
seen liow the coal-measures are sepa- 
rated into basins by the lower rocks 
coming up to the surface and forming 
anticlinal axes. Fig. 3 represents the 
position of single beds, as they occur 
among the slates and sandstones, and 
the manner in which they are some- 
times reached by means of a tunnel 
driven in from the base of the hill. 
The curved portion of the coal at 
the top is formed by the coal-beds 
at their outcrop becoming disinte- 
grated, and their fragments and de- 
composed smut being spread down 
the slope of the hill. The Roman 
r.umerals, "IX," "X," "XI," "XII," 
in fig. 2, designate the lower forma- 
tions of rock, known respectively as 
the red sandstones (corresponding to 
the "Old Red Sandstone"); a series of 
gray sandstones ; one of red shales ; and 
lastly, the conglomerate. The dotted lines 
above and below the section mark the con- 
tinuity of the conglomerate beneath the base 
of the section and its original course above 
the present surface before this portion had 
been removed by diluvial action. The other 




formations obviously accompany the con- 
glomerate with similar fle-xures. 

The same cause, that threw the strata into 
their inclined and contorted positions, no 
doubt changed the character of the coal by 
dispelling its volatile portions, converting 
it in fact into coke, while the pressure 
of the superincumbent beds of rock pre- 



COAL. 



133 



vented the swelling up of the material, as 
occurs in the ordinary process of producing 
coke from bituminous coal, and aiused it to 
assume the dense and compact structure of 
anthracite. As the anthracite basins are 
traced westward, it is observed that the 
coals in those districts which have been less 
disturbed, retain somewhat of the bitumin- 
ous character; and if the continuity were 
uninterrupted between the anthracite and 
the bituminous coal-fields, there is no doubt 
that a gradual passage would be observed 
from the one kind of coal to the other, and 
that this would be accompanied by an amount 
of disturbance in the strata corresponding 
to the degree in wdiich the coal is deficient 
in bitumen. 

AMOUNT OF AVAILABLE COAL. 

In estimating the quantities of workable 
coal in any district, several points are to be 
taken into consideration besides the amount 
of surface covered by the coal-measures and 
tlie aggregate thickness of all the beds they 
contain. Out of the total number of coal- 
beds, there are more or less of them that 
must be excluded from the estimate, on ac- 
count of their being too thin to work. The 
great depth at which the lower beds in the 
central parts of the Appalachian coal-field 
lie must probably prevent their ever being 
worked ; but for this no allowance is ever 
made in the estimates of quantities of coal. 

The most careftil and complete computa- 
tions of this nature which have been made 
are those of Professor H. D. Rogers, and of 
!RIr. Bannan in the Coal Statistical Register 
for 1871. From these sources we obtain 
the following estimates : 

EXTENT OF COAL-FIELD IK THE SEVERAL STATES 
POSSESSING THE COAL FORMATION. 

Sq. miles. 

Massachusetts and Rhode Island loo 

Pennsylvania 12,6,56 

Ohio 7,100 

Maryland 550 



\'iiL,qin;i 15,900 

Kentucky 13,700 

'ri'iincssee 3,700 

Alabama 6,130 

Cu'oriiia 170 

Iiiiliaiia 6,700 

Illinois 40,000 

Michijian 13,3.50 

Iowa 24,000 

Missouri 21,329 

Nebraska 84,000 

Kansas 80,000 

Arkansas 12,597 

Indian Territory 40,000 

Texas 30,0.X) 

New Mexico 20,000 

Wyomiu}^ 20,000 

Colorado 20,000 

Montana 74,000 

Dakota 100,000 



Total 650,862 

In the anthracite basins of Pennsylvania 
the number of workable beds varies from 2 
or 3 to 25, according to the depth of the 
basin ; the average number is supjiosed to be 
10 or 12. The maximum thickness of coal 
is in the Pottsville basin, and amounts to 
207 feet. Rejecting the thin seams, the 
average thickness in the south anthracite 
field is reckoned at 100 feet; in tlie middle 
or north field at about 60 feet ; and the gen- 
eral average of the whole, 70 fc' t. 

The maximum thickness of the 15 or 16 
coal-beds of the central part of the Appala- 
chian coal-field is about 40 feet, but the 
average of the whole basin is considered tc 
be 25 feet. 

The basin extending over Illinois ani 
into Indiana and Kentucky, contains in the 
last-named state 16 or 17 workable beds, 
with a maximum thickness of about 50 feet. 
The average over the whole area is supposed 
to be 20 or 2.T feet. 

The following estimates of the British 
coal-fields are introduced for comparison. 
Extending these computations to Belgium 
and France also, the result of calculations of 
available coal supply, in 1870, are as follows : 

RELATIVE AMOUNT OF COAL IN THE SEVERAL GREAT COAL-FIELDS OF EUROPE AND AMERICA. 

. . Tons. Ratio, 
lielgium (assuming an average thickness of about 60 feet of coal) contains 

a^'O"^ 36,000,000,000 1 

France (with .same thickness) contains about 59,000,000,000 1 .64 

The British Islands (averaging 35 feet thickness) contain nearly 190/)00 OOO^OOO 5.28 

Pennsylvaiua (averaging 25 feet thickness) contains 316,400,000.000 8.8 

The great Ai)i)alachian coal-field (including Pennsylvania, averaging 25 feet) . 1 ,387,500,000,000 38.5 

Coal-field of Indiana, Illinois, and western Kentucky (average thickness 25 ft). 1,277,500,000, 000 35.5 

The Rocky Mountain basin (averaging 30 feet) 3,739,000,000,000 10.29 

All the productive coal-fields of North America (with an assumed thickness 

of 20 teet of coal, and a productive area of 200,000 sq. miles) 6,720,400,000,000 186. 

All the coal-fields of Europe g 75 

The following table contains the yearly I States, from the commencement of the trade 
returns of the coal product of the United | in 1820 : 



r?sssf 



Total consumption of Anthracite and Bituminous Coal in the gggii 

United States. Sss 






Aggregate of Bituminous mined in other portions of the United gggggg g 
States, not included in this table. »-«»-ae;g- g- 






„2 S 


22,830 
315,0./- 

d25,9U!l 
42,205 
23,174 
19,979 
6,127 
47,658 




27,298 
88,116 
136,278 
6:1,19^ 
417,9.0 
390,630 
397,210 
567,517 
276,807 
218,801 


1,119,997 
620,842 
454,613 
920,242 
701,118 
296,087 

d 38,273 
165,373 

1,150,499 




i 




^•3 


SSiJSSSS'l'^" 


636,903 
232,870 
213,329 
436,849 
580,180 
448,262 
610,727 
792,549 
1,032,894 
867,780 
999,953 


6,015,443 
1,027,251 
1,115,367 
1,251,645 
1,314,843 
1,732,813 
2,123,443 
2,520,653 
3,088,170 
3,364,977 
3,583,628 


21,109,575 
3,736,186 
4,856,183 
5,477,025 
5,931,6.38 
6,851,880 
7,532,998 
7,849,085 
7,810,810 
7,976,183 
9,026,682 


67,248,670 
10,236,176 
9,376,017 
9,706,770 
11,883,365 
12,599,981 
12,110,923 
15,455,584 
15,860,777 
17,545,08t: 
18,308,31(. 


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136 



MINING INDUSTRY OP THE UNITKD STATES. 



TRANSPORTATION OF COAL TO MARKET. 

The first anthracite from the Schuylkill 
mines was brought to Philadelphia in wag- 
ons. The navigation of the river and canal 
was hardly practicable for boats previous to 
the year 1822; and though from that year 
anthracite was conveyed to Philadelphia and 
the trade continued to increase, it was not 
until 1 82.') that a large amount of coal could 
be transported by this route. The effect of 
these improvements was experienced in the 
transportation of 6,.')00 tons in 1^25; in 1826 
it increased to 16,763. As for successive 
years tiie trade steadily and rapidly increased 
in importance, the capaciiy of the canal 
proved at la-t insufficient for it, and the 
Heading railroad was laid out for its accom- 
modation, and constructed with a uniform 
descending grade from the mining region at 
Pottsville to the Delaware river. It was 
opened in 1841. and proved a formidable 
competitor to the Schuylkill canal, but the 
increasing trade has surpassed the capacity 
of both these routes. Other lines have been 
constructed, till now there are six or seven 
railroads engaged almost exclusively in the 
transportation of the anthracite and semi- 
anthracite coals from the mines. 

As seen by the table, the first shipments 
of anthracite were from the Lehigh region, 
two years before any were sent from the 
Schuylkill. The transportation was effected 
by arks or large boxes built of })lank, and 
run down the rapid and shoal river with no 
little risk. To return with them was im- 
practicable, nor was this desired, for the 
arks themselves were constructed of the 
product of the forest^, which in this form 
was most conveniently got to market. As 
the coal trade increased in importance, the 
Lehigh Coal and Navigation Company, to 
insure greater facility in running the arks, 
constructed dams across the shoaler places 
in the river, by which the water was held 
back, thus increasing the depth above. As 
the arks coming down the river reached one 
of these dams, the sluice gates were opened 
and the boa's descended to the next dam be- 
low. At first two arks were connected to- 
gether by hin;:es at the ends ; subsequently 
more were thus joined together, till they 
reached nearly 2(i()f(et in length. In 1831 
the slack water navigation of the Lehigh 
was so far perfected, that it was used by 
canal boats ascending and descending through 
regular locks. 

Up to the year 1827 the transportation 



of anthracite to Mauch Chunk, nine miles 
from the mines, was by wagons. The Mauch 
Chunk road, completed in May, 1827, was 
made with a descending grade, averaging 
about 100 feet to the mile, so that the loaded 
cars ran down by gravity. Each train car- 
ried down with it in cars appropriated to 
this use the mules for drawing the empty 
cars back ; and it is stated that after the 
animals once became accustomed to the rou- 
tine of their duties they could never be made 
to travel down the road if accidentally left 
behind. The trade before many years out- 
grew these increased facilities of transport- 
ing the coal, and it was found essential to 
return the empty cars by some more econom- 
ical method. On account of the heavy up- 
grade, locomotives, it was concluded, cculd 
not be advantageously employed, and hence 
a system of inclined planes and gravity 
roads was devised, by which the cars hoisted 
by stationary power to the summit of the 
planes and thence descending the gravity 
roads might be returned to the mines. In 
the accompanying sketches a part of this ar- 
rangement of roads, is exhibited. 

The hieh hill called Mount Pisgah, above 
the village of Mauch Chunk, is the terminat- 
ing point at the Lehigh river of the long 
ridge called Sharp Mountain. The lower 
road seen in the sketch is called the loaded 
track. The cars come by this from the 
mines, and being letdown the inclined plane 
at its terminus, their loads are discharged in- 
to the great bins over the edge of the liver. 
They are then hauled a shoi t distance to the 
foot of the long plane that reaches to the 
summit of Mount Pisgah, and by the sta- 
tionary steam engine are drawn up in about 
six minutes to an elevation «50 feet above 
that at the foot. The length of this plane 
is 22o0 feet. From its summit the empty 
cars run down the inclined road constructed 
along the south side of the ridge, and at the 
distance of six miles, having descended about 
300 feet, they reach the foot of another in- 
clined plane at Mount Jefferson. This plane 
is 2<>70 feet long, rising 462 feet. The as- 
cent is accomplished in three minutes, and 
from the top another gravity road extends 
about a mile, descending 44 feet to the Sum- 
mit Hill village. From this point branch 
roads lead to the different mines in I'anthcr 
Creek valley, and all meet again in the 
loaded tr;ick road by which the cars return 
to Mauch Chunk. 

The transportation of coal from Mauch 
Chunk was conduct jd by the river and canal 




MOUNT PI9GAH PI \\r MaUCII (IIINK P\ 




TIIE GREAT OPEN QUARRY OF THE LEHIGH. 



In ■working this great quarry of anthracite at the Summit mine, above Mauch Chunk, blocks of coal 
were occasionally left standing for a time, one of which, surmounted by the soil of the original surface and 
the relics of the vegetation, is represented in the above cut. In this block are discerned the hues of strati- 
fication of the coal; and an idea of its extraordinary thickness and extent is conveyed by the appearance of 
the cliffs upon the further side of tlie excavated area. Upon the floor of the quarry are seen the mining 
wagons used for conveying away upon temporary tracks the coal and rubbish of the excavations. 



t*ir^ 








BALTmORB COMl'ANT'S MINE, WILKESBARRE, PA. 




COLLIERY SLOPE AND BUEAKER AT TUSCARORA, PA. 



COAL. 



139 




MOUNT PISGAU PLANES AND THE GKAVlli' KAILKOAD, MAUCH CHUNK. 



exclusively until the partial construction of 
the Lehiojh railroad in 1846. But it was 
not until its completion in 1855, that this 
be;);an to be an impovtant outlet of the coal 
rci^ion and a powerful competitor for the 
trade with the canal. 

A considerable amount of anthracite finds 
a market on the borders of Chesapeake Bay, 
beini^ transported from the mines near the 
Susquehanna river by the Susquehanna tide- 
water canal, and by the Northern Central 
raihoad. Its consumption is extending in 
this region by its use in the blast furnaces 
in the place of charcoal, for smelting iron 
ores, and the receipts of this ftiel in the city 
of Baltimore are about one-sixth of those of 
the st-mi-bituminous coals of the Cumber- 
land resion, which are brought to the city 
by the Baltimore and Ohio railroad and the 
canal. The receipts during the years named 
below were as follows : 



Bituminous. ... 
Anthracite 



18o7. 

Tons. 

.443,782 

.257,334 



I860. 1869. 

Tons. Tons 

897,*)84 1,88'2,61D 
325,129 270,240 



1870. 
Tons. 
1,717,075 
305,494 



701,116 722,813 2,152,909 2,022,571 



The principal outlet of the Northern coal- 
field had been fr<jm 1829 to 185J by the 
Delaware and Hudson canal. Since 1847 
there have been taken every year to the 
Hudson river by this route from about 
44o,0o0 to 499,650 tons, except in 18.'j5, 
when the quantity was 565,460 tons. A 
number of railroads now connect this basin 
with the central railroad across northern. 
New Jersey, and in other directions it is 
connected both by railroad and canals with 
the Erie railroad to the North and the Sus- 
quehanna river to the South-west. As large 
an amount of coal is now transported over 
each one of three of these lines as by the 
Delaware and Hudson canal. 

The various railroads and canals which 
have been constructed with especial refer- 
ence to the transportation of anthracite, are 
more than 48 in number, and have cost 
over $260,000,000. Most of tliem are pre- 
sented in the following table; of some of 
them only those portions which may fairly 
be counted as constructed for coul pur- 
poses : — 



140 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



Canals. 
No. miles. 
.... 87 



Names of railroads and canals. 

Lehi;:;h Navigation , 

Luhigh an I Susquelianna railroul and branches 

Miiucli Cluink and Sum mi: railroads 

Delawirj division of tlie Pennsylvania canal 43 

B.'avor Meadow railroad and branch 

H.izletou railroatl 

Pliihidelphia and Erie railroad 

Sninmit railroad 

L'.diigh Valley railroad and branches 

Delaware aid Hudson canal 108 

Morris canal 102 

The Schuylkill Navigation 108 

R 'ading railroad and branches 

Slia!n:)kin an I I'ottsville Valley railroad and branch 

Little Scliuylkill railroad 

D luviUe and Pottsville railroad (44^ miles unfinished) 

Mine Hill an<l Schuylkill Haven railroad and branches 

Mount Carbon railroad and branches 

Port Carbon railroad and branches 

Schuylkill Valley railroad and branches 

Mill Creek railroad and branches 

Lykens Valley railroad 

Wiconisco canal 12 

Svvatara railroad 

North Branch canal 163 

Union canal and Pine Grove branch 90 

Schuylkill and Susquehanna railroad 

North.'rn Central railroad 

Pennsylvania railroad and branches 338 

Sus(jnehanna tidewater canal 45 

York and Cumberland railroad 

Cumberland Valley railroad 

Franklin railroad 

Nesquehoning railroad 

Room Run railway 

Delaware, Lackawanna, and Western railroad 

Lackawanna and Bloomsburg railroad 

North Pennsvlvania 

Catawissa. Williamsport, and Erie railroad 

Elmira and Williamsport 

Pennsylvania Coal Company's railroad 

New Jersey Central railroad 

Railroads by individuals 

Other coal railroads 



Railroads. 
No. miles. 

193 
36 

38 
20 

288 

2 

238 



153 
34 
32 
34 

143 
13 
14 
30 
32 

215 



55 
142 



44 

81 

45 

28 

6 

116 

82 

66 

68 

78 

63 

134 

120 

1117 



Total cost. 

$4,455,000 

13,570,595 

831,684 

1,734,958 

300,000 

253,000 

20,000,000 

60,000 

20,000,000 

3,2.50,000 

4,000,000 

5,785,000 

29,822,729 

1,569,450 

1,466,187 

1,895,000 

3,775,000 

203,260 

282,350 

576,0.50 

323,375 

975,868 

370,000 

41,780 

3,790,310 

1,000,000 

1,300,000 

12,400,000 

29,761,5.33 

1,000.000 

3,300,000 

1,692,111 

1,643,128 

500,000 

40,000 

13,988,876 

3,753,130 

6,669,991 

3,745,096 

2,692,000 

2,745,500 

18,034,675 

1,180,000 

37,500,000 



Total L096 3,746 $261,435,646 



COAL MINING. 



Coal-beds are discovered and worked by 
different methods, varying according to the 
circmnstances under which they occur. In 
regions where they lie among the piles of 
strata liorizontally arranged, and passing 
with the other members of the group upon 
a level or nearly so through the hills, their 
exact position is often detected by their ex- 
posure in the precipitous walls of rock along 
the rivers ; or it is indicated by peculiar in- 
dentations, known as "benches," around their 
line of outcrop, caused by their crumbling 
and wearing away more rapidly than the 
harder strata above and below them ; and 
again by the recurrence of springs of water 



and wet places at the foot of the benches, 
which point to an impervious stratum with- 
in the hill that prevents the water percolat- 
ing any further down ; and lastly, in the 
little gorges worn by the '' runs," the beds 
are often uncovered, and loose pieces of coal 
washed down lead to their original source 
above. However discovered, the method of 
working them is simple. A convenient place 
is selected upon the side of a hill, and an e.v- 
cavation called a drift, usually about four 
feet wide, is made into the coal-bed. The 
height of the drift is governed by the thick- 
ness of the coal-bed and the nature of the 
overlying slate. Miners sometimes work in 
drifts only 2^ feet high. Coal-beds three or 
four feet thick are very common, and are 




DESCEXDIXd THE !SHAFT. 



COAL. 



141 



worked without ll)e necessity of removing the 
ovcrliaiigiii}^ »l;it(!, unless it is too unsound 
to serve as a roof. Beds of ten feet thick- 
ness or more require niueh a(Mitioiial care 
over those of smaller size, liotli in rcinovin"^ 
the coal and supporting the ntof; and in 
many cases it is found expedient to h^ave n 
portion of the bed, eithf^r at the top or bot- 
tom, untouched, especially if the upper lay- 
ers contain, as they often do, sound slieets of 
slate. At the entrance of the mines, and in 
general in all places where tlic cover is not 
sound, the materials overhead are prevented 
from falling \>y tindicrs across theto[) of the 
drifts, rudely frauKMl into posts scit up against 
the walls on each side ; and wln.'re tlie strata 
arc very loose, slabs are driven in over th<! 
cross timbers and Ixdiind the posts. In su(di 
ground the coal cannot be excavat(!<l over 
large areas without leaving fre<juent [)illars 
of coal and introducing gr(!at nundx-rs of 
posts or props. Tint previous to abandon- 
ing the mine the [)illars may be remove*], 
commencing with those furtluist in, and all 
the strata above are thus allowed to settle 
gradually down. When drifts or gangways 
have been extended into the coal-beds far 
enough to be under good cover, branches 
are commenced at right angl(;s, ami a system 
of chambers is laid out for excavation, leav- 
ing sufficient blocks or pillars of coal to pro- 
vide for tli(! support of the overlying strata. 
Thus the work is carried on, ventilation Ix!- 
ing secured by connections made within the 
hill with gangways i)assing out in dilfcrent 
directions, and sometimes also by shafts 
sunk from llie surface above, or, when these 
means are not practicable, by ventilating 
fans worked by hand, ami thus forcing air 
througli long wooden boxes whi<;li lead into 
the interior of the mine. Drainage is often 
a serious trouble, and unless the strata slope 
toward thr; outlet of the mine, it can be ef- 
fected only l>y a cliamnd cut to the rcfjuired 
depth for the water to flow out, or else by 
tlie use of pumping machinery. When the 
strata lie nearly upon a horizontal plane, it 
is very common for a sliglit descent to be 
found from the exterior of a hill toward its 
centre, as if tin; beds of rock ]ia<l been com- 
pressed and sf'ttled by their greater weight 
in the middle of the hill. In such positions 
the coal is extracted with much expense for 
drainage, and it is tlu^refore an itnportant 
consideration in judging of the value of coal- 
beds to ascertain whether or no the water 
will flow freely out from the excavations. In 



the bituminous coal fields west of the AUc- 
ghani(;s, owing to the general distribution of 
the coal beds above the lev(;l of tin; wat(!r- 
cours(!s, it has not yet been found worth 
whil(! to work any of the beils that are 
known to lie ImjIow this level. Coal nmst 
rcjach a nnndi higher value before beds of 
the moderate Hiz<! of those in that region can 
be profitably exj>lored below wat(;r level. 

It is rare that bituminous e<)al is obtained 
by open quarrying. Where the beds lie 
near the surfa<;e, so that they might 1)0 un- 
covered, the coal is almost itivariably in a 
rotten condition an<l worthhiss. (yonse^ 
(juently onc^ of the first points to be assur(;d 
of in judging of the value of a coal-bed is 
that it has suflieient ro<;k (;over. Aft(M' this 
may be eonsi<len^d the rpiality of the coal, 
its freedom fn^m sulphur, etc,., the sound- 
ness of its roof, and the facilities offered for 
drainage and ventilation. The (piality of a 
coal bed undergoes little or no change after 
it is once n;ached uiuier good cover beyond 
atmospheric iidluenc(!S ; an<i hence no en- 
couragement <;an be given to continue to 
work a poor bed in hopes of its improving. 

Coal is excavated chiefly by light, slender 
picks. With one of these a miner makes a 
shallow, liorizontal (!ut as far as he can reach 
under the wall of coal before him, stretching 
himself out u[)on the floor to do this w(»rk, 
and then h<; [)roceeds to make a vertical cut 
extending from eafdi end of that along the 
floor up to the roof \*>y another horizontal 
cut along the roof, a cubical block of coal is 
thus entirely s<!parate<l from the bed, except 
on the back side which cannot be rea<;hed. 
The separation is completed by wedges 
driven int<) the uppcir crevice, or sometimes 
by small charges of powd(!r. J>y this iruians 
blo(;ks of coal are thrown down amounting 
to To or 8(» tons in weight, and with the 
l(!ast possible loss by the reductii^n <;f por- 
tions of it to dust and fiiK! c')al. 

Th(! cost of mining and delivering coal at 
the mouth of the nones, varies with the size 
and (diaracter of the beds. Under the most 
favorable conditions the horizontal beds of 
bitumitK)Us coal, as those in the liills oppo- 
site I'ittsburg, have been worked and the 
coaJ delivered outside for 1 J^ cents a bushel, 
or 4r> cents a ton ; but in general th(! total 
expenses arc nearly double this rate. In es- 
timating th(; caf)a<-ity of production of coal- 
beds it is usual to allow a ton of coal to 
every cubic yard, and a bed of coal a yard 
thick should consequently contain a ton to 



142 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



every square yard, or 4840 tons to the acre : 
but the actual product that can be depended 
on, after the loss by fine coal, by pillars left 
standini;, etc., may not safely be reckoned at 
more than 13000 tons, or for every foot thick- 
ness of tlie bed lOOu tons. 

In the anthracite rctjion, and in other coal 
districts where the beds are of large size and 
lie at various degrees of inclination with the 
horizon, the methods of mining differ more 
or less from those described. The anthra- 
cite beds frequently extend in parallel lay- 
ers longitudinally through the long ridges, 
dipping, it may be, nearly with the out- 
er slope, and descending to great depths 
Lelow the surface. In such positions they 
are conveniently reached at the ends of the 
ridges and in the gaps across these, by a 
level driven on the course of the bed, and 
rising just enough for the water to drain 
freely. A level or gangway of this sort is 
the great road of the mine, by which all the 
coal is to be brought out in case other sim- 
ilar gangwaj^ are not driven into the same 
bed at points further up or down its slope. 
Unless the dip is very gentle, one at the 
lowest point should be sufficient. At dif- 
ferent points along its extension passage- 
ways are cut in the coal, tlirected at right 
angles up the slope of the bed, and as soon 
as one of them can be brought through to 
the surface, a ventilating current of air is 
established, which may afterward be divert- 
ed through all the workings. The passage- 
ways together with other levels above divide 
the coal-bed into great blocks, and also serve 
as shutes by which the coal excavated above 
is sent down to the main gangway. At the 
bottom of each shute a bin is constructed 
for arresting the coal and discharging it, as 
required, into the wagons which are run in 
beneath on the tracks laid for this purpose. 
Cc)al-beds in this position are also worked 
from the gangway by broad excavations car- 
ried up the " breast" or face of the bed, suf- 
ficient pillars of coal from 12 to 25 feet long 
being left in either case to support the roof. 
These pillars usually occupy the most room 
just above the gangways, and on passing up 
between them, the chambers are made "to 
widen out till they attain a breadth of about 
40 feet, and thus the breast is extended up 
to the next level. Props are introduced 
wherever required to support the roof, and 
the rubbish, slates, etc., are stacked up for 
the same purpose, as well as to get them out 
of the way. 



It often occurs that coal beds within the 
ridges can be reached only by a tunnel 
driven in from the side of the mountain 
across their line of bearing. Tunnels of this 
kind are sometimes extended till they cut 
two or more parallel coal beds. Each one 
may then be worked by gangways leaving 
the tunnel at right angles and following the 
coal beds, and the tunnel continues to be 
the main outlet of them all. 

When it is desirable to obtain the coal 
from the portion of the bed below the level 
of the gangway, preparations must first be 
made for raising the water, which may be 
done for a time by bucket and windlass, and 
as the slope is carried down and the fiow of 
water increases, then by mining pumps 
worked by horse or steam power. The 
slope may commence from the exterior sur- 
face or from the lower gangway of a mine 
already in operation, and is made large 
enough to admit wagons, which ascend and 
descend upon two tracks extending down its 
floor. At the depth of 200 oi^ 300 feet 
a gangway is driven at right angles with 
the slope in each direction on the course of 
the bed, and from this the workings ai'e car- 
ried up the breast as already described. 
Other gangways are started at lower levels 
of lOu feet or more each, dividing the 
mine into so many stories or floors. The 
coal above each gangway is sent down to 
its level and is received into wagons. By 
these it is conveyed to the slope, and here 
running upon a turn-table, each wagon is 
set upon the track in the slope and is imme- 
diately taken by the steam engine to the sur- 
face, another car at the same time coming 
down on the other track. Reservoirs are 
constructed upon the different levels to ar- 
rest the water, that it may not all have to 
be raised up from the bottom, and the 
pumps are constructed so as to lift the wa- 
ter from the lower into the higher reservoirs 
and thence to the surface. iSlany mines of 
this character are opened from the surface, 
one of which is represented in the cut of the 
" Colliery Slope and Breaker, at Tuscarora, 
Pennsylvania." An empty wagon is seen in 
this cut descending the track from the en- 
gine house down into the mouth of the pit, 
and through the end of the build ng pass- 
es the pump rod which by means of a vi- 
brating " bob" is turned down the pit and 
works by the side of the track. The men 
pass down into the mines of this character, 
sometimes by the wagons, and sometimes by 




UMiKK.Ml-M.NG CuAL. — iffu p;;v;L- 1 41. 




BREAKING OFF AXD LOADING COAL. 




DRAWING our COAL WIIKU;; TUKRK IS NOT SUFFICIENT DEl'Tll UF VEIN iO AD.MIT 

MULE 'lEA.MS. 



COAL. 



113 



ladders or steps arranged for the purpose 
between the two tracks. Though the open- 
ing, as represented, appears insigniticaiit for 
an important mine, such a slope may extend 
several luindred feet in depth, and many 
ganojways may branch off from it to tlie 
right and left, extending several miles un- 
der ground in nearly straight lines along the 
course of the bed. These, liowever, to se- 
cure ventilation, must have other slopes coin- 
ing out to the surface, and at these may be 
other arrangements for discharging the coal 
and water. In extensive mines the gang- 
ways are made wide and capacious for the 
continual passing back and forth of the wag- 
ons drawn by mules. These animals once 
lowered into the mine are kept constantly 
under ground, where they are provided with 
convenient stables excavated from the coal 
and rock. The men continue at work from 
eight to ten hours, and in well-ventilated 
mines the employment is neither very labo- 
rious, hazardous, nor disagreeable. The pur- 
suit has, however, little attraction for Ameri- 
cans, and is mostly monopolized by Welsh, 
English, Irish, and German miners. 

in the anthracite region there have been 
some remarkable instances of open quarries 
of coal. That of the Summit mine of the 
Lehigh is unsurpassed in the history of coal 
mining, for the enormous body of coal ex- 
posed to view. The great coal-bed, wliich 
appears to have been formed by a num- 
ber of beds coming together through the 
thinning out of the slates that separated 
them, arches over the ridge, forming the up- 
permost layers of rock, and dipping down 
the sides at a steeper angle than their in- 
clination. It thus passes beneath the higher 
strata. On the summit a thin soil, formed 
chiefly of the decomposed coal itself, covered 
the beds and supported a growth of forest 
trees. For several feet do.wn the coal was 
loose and broken before the solid anthracite 
was reached. As the excavations were com- 
menced and carried on from this point, it 
appeared as if the whole mountain was coal. 
Shafts were sunk into it and penetrated re- 
peated layers of anthracite, separated by thin 
seams of slate, to the depth, in some places, 
of more than 55 feet. The work of strip- 
ping off and removing the covering of yellow 
and greenish sandstones and refuse coal was 
carried on, till the quarry had extended over 
about 50 acres, and on the north side the 
overlying sandstone, which had been steadily 
increasing in thickness, presented a wall of 



30 to 40 feet in height. Over this area rail 
tracks were laid for removing the waste 
northward to the slope of the hill toward 
the Panther Creek valley; and when the 
piles thus formed had grown into large hills, 
the rubbish was deposited in the spaces left 
after the coal had been removed. During the 
progress of this work the scenes presented 
were of the most picturesque and novel char- 
acter. The area laid bare was irregularly 
excavated into steps, upon wliich temporary 
rail tracks were laid in every direction. Up- 
on these the wagons were kept busily run- 
ning, some carrying off the coal, some load- 
ed with slates and waste, and otliers return- 
ing empty for their loads. Here and there 
stood huge isolated masses of anthracite, 
with their covering of sandstone, soil, and 
the relics of the original forest growth, reach- 
ing to the height of 50 or 60 feet, monu- 
ments of the vast amount of excavation that 
had been carried on, and presenting in their 
naked, vertical walls, fine representations of 
the extraordinary thickness of the bed and 
of the alternating layers of slate and coal of 
which it was composed. In the accompa- 
nying cut of the great open quarry of the 
Lehigh is represented one of these blocks. 
Gradually these masses disappeared as the 
miners continued their operations ; but in 
the boundary walls of the quarry there are 
still to be seen black cliffs of solid coal more 
than 5;) feet high, and overtopped by a wall 
of yellow sandstone of nearly equal addi- 
tional height. Under these walls opera- 
tions have been carried on by the regular 
system of underground mining. From ten 
acres of the quarry it has been estimated 
that 850,000 tons of coal have been sent 
away, the value of which in the ground at 
the usual rate of 30 cents per ton, would be 
$255,00. », or $25,500 per acre. Estimating 
the average working thickness of the coal 
in this part of the coal-field, from the Lit- 
' tie Schuylkill to Nesquehoning, at 4) feet, 
which according to the report of the state 
geologist is not exaggerated, every availa- 
j ble acre contains not less than 05,000 tons. 
The expense of extracting and preparing 
' the coal from the great bed for market, is 
I stated by the same authority to be 37|- 
cents per ton for mining and delivering 
ready for breaking and cleaning. For this 
operation \2^ cents; and for raising it to 
the summit and running it to Mauch Chunk 
25 cents. 

Another locality where coal has been 



144 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



•worked by open quarrying is at the mines 
of the Baltimore Company, near Wilkes- 
barre. Here, too, an immense bed of coal 
was found so close to the surface that it was 
easily uncovered over a considerable area. 
As the overlying slates and sandstone in- 
creased in thickness, it was found at last 
more economical to follow the coal under 
cover ; and it was then worked after the 
manner of mining the bituminous coal-beds 
west of the Alleghany Mountains. Horizon- 
tal drifts 25 feet high, which was the thick- 
ness of the bed, were carried in from the 
abrupt wall, several of them near together 
and separateil by great pillars of coal left to 
support the roof. The gangways were so 
broad and spacious that a locomotive and 
train of cars might have been run into the 
mine. Within they were crossed by a suc- 
cession of other levels, and through the wide 
spaces thus left open, the light of day pene- 
trated far into the interior of the hill, grad- 
ually disappearing among the forest of black 
pillars by which it was obstructed and ab- 
sorbed. 

In the anthracite region, several coal-beds 
of workable dimensions are often found in 
close proximity, so that when dipping at a 
high angle they are penetrated in succession 
by a tunnel driven across their line of bear- 
ing. Larger quantities of coal are thus con- 
centrated in the same area than are ever met 
with in the bituminous coal-field. In the 
northern coal-fields, between Scranton and 
Carbondale, tracts have brought $800 or 
more per acre, and single tracts of 650 to 
VOO acres are reported upon by competent 
mininff engineers as containina; five workable 
beds, estimated to yield as follows — each 
one over nearly the whole area : one bed 
working Y feet, 11,200 tons per acre; a sec- 
ond, working 8 feet, 12,800 tons per acre ; 
a third, 6 feet, 9600 tons per acre ; a fourth, 
the same ; and a fifth, 3 feet, 4800 tons — 
altogether equalling a production of 48,000 
tons per acre, from which 20 per cent, should 
be deducted for mine waste, pillars, etc. 

The anthracite as usually brought out from 
the mines is mostly in large lunjps of incon- 
venient size to handle. In this shape it was 
originally sent to market, an<l when sold to 
consumers a man was sent with the coal to 
break it up in small pieces with a hammer. 
At present every niin<; is supplied with an 
apparatus culled a coal-breaker, which is run 
by steam power, and which crushes the large 
pieces of coal in fragments. It consists of 



two rollers of cast iron, one solid, with its 
surface armed with powerful teeth, and the 
other of open basket-work structure. These 
revolve near together, and the coal, fed from 
a hopper above, is broken between them, and 
the pieces discharged below into another hop- 
per are delivered into the upper end of a re- 
volving cylindrical screen, made of stout iron 
wire, and set on a gentle incline. The meshes 
of this screen are of four or more degrees of 
coarseness. At the upper end the finer par- 
ticles only drop through ; passing this por- 
tion of the screen, the coarser meshes which 
succeed let through the stove coal sizes, next 
the " egg coal," and next the " broken coal," 
while the coarsest pieces of all, called " lump 
coal," are discharged through the lower end 
of the screen. Under the screen are bins or 
shutes, separated by partitions, so as to keep 
each size by itself. Their floor slopes down 
to the railway track, and each bin at its lower 
end is provided with a trap-door, through 
which the coal is delivered as requiied into 
the wagons. The general plan of this ar- 
rangement is seen in the preceding wood-cut 
of the Colliery Slope and Breaker at Tusca- 
rora. The coal wagons are here run from 
the mine up into the top of the engine house, 
and thence through the building to the 
breaker at the upper end of the slope over 
the shutes. As the coal falls from the screen 
into these, boys are employed, one in each 
bin, to pick out and throw away the pieces 
of slate and stone that may be mixed with 
the coal. This they soon learn to do very 
thoroughly and with great activity ; and up- 
on the faithfulness with which their work is 
done depends in no small measure the repu- 
tation of the coal. 



USEFUL APPLICATIONS. 

While anthracite, by reason of its simple 
composition, is fitted only for those uses in 
which the combustion or oxidation of its 
carbon is required to generate heat, ov else 
to extract oxygen from other substances, 
the bituminous coals, containing a greater 
variety of ingredients, serve to produce from 
their volatile ingredients illuminatiiig gas 
and coal oils. These two subjects will be 
treated in distinct chapters, an . that upon 
the oils may properly include an account 
of the petroleum wells which have come 
within the past ten years to fui'Mi>-h ho large 
and important an item of our exports and 
home consumption. 



ILLUMINATING GAS. 



145 



CHAPTER X. 

ILLUMINATING GAS. 

The supply of artificial light in abun- 
dance and at little cost is one of the most 
important benefits which science and me- 
chanics can confer. It contributes not 
merely to physical comfort and luxurious 
living, but supplies the means to multitudes 
of obtaining instruction during those hours 
after the cessation of their daily labors, 
which are not required for sleep, and 
which among the poor have in great 
measure been spent in darkness, on ac- 
count of the expense of artificial light. At 
the present day it is not unusual, in the less 
cultivated portions of the country, to see a 
farmer's family at night gathered around a 
blazing fire, and some among them seeking 
by its fitful light to extract the news from 
a public journal, or perhaps conning their 
school tasks, and making some attempts at 
writing or ciphering ; and when the hour to 
retire has come, the younger members dis- 
appear in the dark, and the more honored 
are favored with a home-made tallow can- 
dle, just sufficient for this use, and endura- 
ble only to those who arc unaccustomed to 
a more cleanly and efficient method of il- 
lumination. With the advance of cultivation 
and learning, the demand for better light 
has increased the more rapidly it has been 
met. The sea has been almost exhaust- 
ed of whales for furnishing supplies of oil. 
The pork of the West has been largely con- 
verted by new chemical processes into lard 
oil and the hard stearin e for candles ; and 
numerous preparations of spirits of turpen- 
tine, under the name of camphenc and burn- 
ing fluid, have been devised and largely in- 
troduced with ingenious lamps contrived to 
secure the excellent light they furnish, with 
the least possible risk of the awful explo- 
sions to which these fluids are liable when 
their vapor conies in contact with fire. The 
bituminous coals have been made to give up 
their volatile portions — by one process to 
afford an illuminating gas, and by another 
to produce burning oils ; and the earth it- 
self is bored by deep wells to exhaust the 
newly-found supplies of oil gathered be- 
neath the surface at unknown periods by 
natural processes of distillation. The res- 
inous prcnlucts of the pine tree are applied 
to the production of oil and gas for the 
Bame purposes; and peat, wood, and other 

a * 



combustible bodies — even water itself — are 
all resorted to as sources from which the cry 
for "more light" shall be satisfied. 

The distillation of carbonaceous and bi- 
tuminous substances to obtain an illuminat- 
ing gas is a process, the practical applica- 
tion of which hardly dates back of the pres- 
ent century. The escape of inflammable 
gases from the earth, in different parts of 
the world, had been observed, and the 
phenomenon had been applied to supersti- 
tious ceremonials, especially at Bakoo on 
the shores of the Caspian. The Chinese 
are said to have applied such natural jets 
of gas to purposes of both illumination and 
heating; but the first attempts to light build- 
ings by gas distilled from bituminous coal 
were made about the year 1798 by Mr. 
Murdock in the manufectory of Messrs. 
Boulton and Watt, at Soho, England, and 
about the same time in France by a French- 
man named Le Bow. The London and 
Westminster Chartered Gas Light and Coke 
Company was incorporated in 1810, and 
Westminster bridge was lighted with gas, 
Dec. 31, 1813. The process was introduced 
into this country about the year 1821. Some 
attempts had been made at an earlier date, 
as in Baltimore according to some state- 
ments in 1816, and in New York four years 
before this. In the New York News of 
August 15, 1859, is an account of the ef- 
forts made by Mr. David Melville of that 
city to establish the use of coal gas in 1812. 
He lighted his own house with it, and then 
a factory at Pawtucket. He also succeeded 
in having it applied to one of the light- 
houses on the coast of Rhode Island, and 
for one year its use was continued with suc- 
cess. But on account of the disturbed state 
of the times and the prejudices against the 
use of a new material, the enterprise fell 
through. In 1822 the manufacture of gas 
was undertaken in Boston ; and the next 
year the New York Gas Light Company 
was incorporated with a capital of ^1,000,- 
OOU. The works, however, were not com- 
pleted and in operation until 1827. An- 
other company, called the Manhattan Gas 
Light Company, was incorporated in 1830 
with a capital of $500,1. 00, which has since 
been increased to $4,000,000. Such were 
the beginnings of this branch of maimfac- 
ture, which has of late ra})idly extended 
itself throughout all the cities and many of 
the towns of the United States, having 
works in operation representing a caj)ital of 



146 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



Within the last twenty years the use of gas 
has increased with great rapidity throughout 
the cities and towns of the United States. 
In 1860, the number of companies manufac- 
turing g ts was, accordhig to the statements 
of the American Gas Light Journal. 433, 
representing a capital of about $59,000,000. 
In 1870, the number of companies had in- 
creased to somewhat more than 800, and the 
capital represented to over 1 1 2,000,000, thus 
ranking with the most important branches 
of industry in the country. The capital 
of the gas companies of the 'State of New 
York, IS stated by INIr. Wells in his Report 
on Local Taxation, to have been $20,000,000 
in 1870, and in this estimate many of the 
smaller companies are overlooked. The 
capital of the gas companies of New York 
and Brooklyn in 1871 was over $14,000,000. 
There are certainly five and probably six 
companies whose annual production exceeds 
1,000,001 1,000 cubic feet, and several others 
are approximating to that amount. The 
price per thousand feet has varied greatly 
in different sections, and has fluctuated in 
all cases with the price of the coal and in its 



production. In New York city and Brook- 
lyn, it has ranged from $2.00 to $4.50, 
standing at present at $3.25, but with a 
promise of reduction soon to $2.75. In 
Philadelphia, where the city manufactures 
for its citizens, it is now, we believe, $2.25, 
and in Pittsburg has been as low as $1.50. 
In the smaller cities it ranges from $4.00 to 
$8.00 per thousand feet. On the Pacific 
coast, owing to the high price of gas-pi-o / 
ducing coals, it has been as high as froni] 
$8.00 to $14.00 per thousand feet. If the 
Rocky Mountain coals prove to be of good 
quality for the production of gas, the coet 
will be materially lessened. Notwithstand- 
ing the consumption of petroleum oils, there 
has been an increase in the demand for illu- 
minating gas, and the plans proposed for its 
production from other hydrocarbons, or by 
new processes, have generally failed, so that 
there seems to be a probability of the contin- 
ued production of gas from coals. What new 
methods of illumination the next twenty 
years may develop we cannot say ; but it is 
certain that a cheap, safe, and brilliant illu- 
minator is still a thins to be desired. 



SOME OF THE PRINCIPAL GAS LIGHT COMPANIES IN THE UNITED STATES. 



Char- T I- 1- Chartered 

t^red. Locahhes. ^^^^.^^ 

1830, Manhattan, N. T $4,000,000 

1823, New York, N. T 1,000,000 

1825, Brooklyn, N. Y 2,000,000 

1859, Citizens' Co., Brooklyn 1,000,000 

1841, Philadelphia 3,000,000 

Northern Liberties 400,000 

1822, Bo.ston, Mass 1,000,000 

1851, Cincinnati, Ohio 1,600,000 

1849, Chicago, 111 1,300,000 

1846, Charleston, S. C 72.''.,800 

1839, St. Louis, Mo 600,000 

183.5, Pittsburg, Penn 300,000 

1848, Providence, R. 1 1,000,000 

1845, Albanv, N. Y 250,000 

1838, Louisville, Ky 600,000 

1850, WiUiamsburg, N. Y 500,000 

1848, Trov, N. Y 200,000 

1851, Richmond, Ya , .341,975 

1852, Rochester, N. Y 200,000 

1849, Lowell, Mass 200,000 

1848, Cleveland, Ohio 200,000 

1849, Detroit. Mich 500,000 

1853, Jersey City, N. J 300,000 

Milwaukee, Wis 400,009 

1849, Hartford, Conn 200,000 

1849, Portland, Maine 250,000 

1857, Columbia, CaHfomia 50,000 

1852, San Franci.sco, " 1,000,000 

1858, Marysville, " 50,000 

Stockton, " 50,000 

1857, Sacramento, " 500,000 



Approximate 


Prices to 


private 






annual 


consumers 


Average 


cost of 


production. 


per 1000 cubic 


coal used per ton. 


Cubic feet. 


feet. 






725,321,000 


$2 


50 


$6 50 to $11 00 


430,000,000 


2 


50 






163,000,000 


2 
2 


00 
00 


7 28 to 


8 15 


432,000,000 


2 


25 


6 50 




70,000,000 


2 


50 


6 29 




200,000.000 


2 


50 


5 00 to 


12 00 


96,708,900 


2 


50 


3 40 




86,250,810 


3 
4 


50 
00 


5 78 




74,500.000 


3 


50 


7 50 




54,720,000 


1 


50 


1 25 




41,437,883 


3 


00 


7 20 




40,250,000 


3 


00 


6 75 to 


8 00 


33,750,000 


2 


70 






33,493,082 


3 


50 


6 25 to 


9 50 


28,000,000 


3 


60 


7 20 




27,000,000 


2 


00 


4 15 




2.5,000,000 


2 


50 


5 38 




21,000,000 


3 


25 


6 50 




20,000,000 


3 


00 


4 25 




20,000,000 


3 


50 


5 00 




19,234,000 


3 


00 


7 89 




19,049,560 


3 


50 


6 00 




15,000,000 


3 
3 
10 
8 
12 
10 
10 


00 
50 
00 
00 
50 
00 
00 


8 68 





ILLUMINATING GAS. 



It: 



TOTAL OF GAS COMPANIES IN THE UNITED STATES 
State. Companies. Capital. 



Alabama 3 $320,000 

Arkansas None. 

California 9 

Connecticut 14 

Delaware 3 

District of Columbia 1 

Florida 1 

Georfjia 6 

Illinois 13 

Indiana 7 

Iowa 5 

Kansas 1 

Kentucky 5 

Louisiana 2 

Maine 10 

Maryland 6 

Massachusetts 49 

Miclii^an 8 

Minnesota 1 

Mississippi 4 

Missouri 4 

New Hampshire 9 

New Jersey 19 

New York 71 

North Carolina 8 

Ohio 30 

Oregon 1 

Pennsylvania 48 

Rhode Island 7 

South Carolina 2 

Tennessee 4 

Texas 3 

Vermont 8 

Virginia 11 

Wisconsin 8 

Not enumerated above 50 

Grand total 431 $59,111,213 396 



FROM RETURNS OF JULY, 

Coal Average Kosin 

gtw, price. gas. 

3 $5 IG 



ISGO. 

Averaee 
price. 



1,790,000 


9 


10 05 






953,000 


14 


3 83 






244.300 


3 


3 50 






500,000 


1 


3 25 






30,000 


1 


7 00 






559,160 


4 


4 68 




$6 50 


2,595,000 


13 


3 91 






605.000 


7 


3 97 






355,000 


5 


4 40 






200,000 


1 


5 00 






905,000 





4 04 






1,540.000 


2 


4 50 






905,300 


9 


3 90 


I 


7 00 


780,000 


3 


3 49 


3 


6 60 


4,759,000 


45 


3 43 


4 


6 37 


745,000 


8 


3 78 






200,000 


1 


6 00 






212,000 


4 


4 75 




, , 


775.000 


4 


4 50 






425,000 


9 


3 98 






1,849,610 


17 


3 72 


2 


6 50 


12,780,250 


61 


3 70 


10 


6 70 


187,000 






8 


5 93 


3,338,600 


29 


3 85 


1 


7 00 


50,000 


1 


8 00 






5,657,700 


48 


3 55 






1,344.000 


6 


3 58 


1 


7 00 


767,800 


2 


5 00 






663,000 


4 


4 00 






225,000 


3 


6 33 






216,000 


6 


4 25 


2 


6 50 


1,030,000 


10 


3 68 


1 


7 00 


778,500 


8 


4 44 






6,200,000 


50 


. .. 


•• 


•• 



35 



The preparation of illuminating gas from 
bituminous coal, wood, rosin, and other 
bodies of organic nature, is a chemical proc- 
ess, too complicated to be very fully treated 
in this place. When sucli bodies are intro- 
duced into a retort and subjected to strong 
beat, the elements of which they consist, as 
carbon, bydrogen, oxygen, and nitrogen, re- 
solve themselves into a great variety of com- 
pounds, and escape (with the exception of 
a tixod carbonaceous residue of charcoal or 
of coke) through the neck of the retort in 
the form of gas or vapors, some of the 
latter of whicli condense on cooling into 
liquids and solids. These compounds are 
rendered more complicated bv appropriating 
the elements of air and moisture that may 
be present in the retort or in the crude ma- 
terial, and also of the foreign substances or 
impurities contained in the latter. In proc- 
esses of this kind, the products vary great- 
ly in their character and relative proportions 
according to the degree of heat employed, 



and tbe rapidity with wbicb the operation is 
conducted. The object in this special dis- 
tillation is to obtain the largest proportion 
of the gases richest in carbon, particulaily 
that known as defiant gas, which consists 
of 86 parts by weight of carbon and 14 of 
hydrogen, represented by the formula C4 
H^. This and some other gaseous hydro- 
carbotis of similar composition, or even con- 
taining a much larger amount of carbon in 
the same volume, and hence having a cor- 
respondingly greater illuminating capacitv, 
it is found, are produced most freely from 
carbonaceous substances which contain a 
large proportion of hydrogen compared ^\ith 
that of oxygen. Many of the common bi- 
tuminous coals contain about 5"5 per cent, 
each of hydrogen and oxygen, the rest be- 
ing carbon. Boghead cannel of Scotland 
contains 11 per cent, of hydrogen and 6*7 
of oxygen; rosin 10 per c^nt. hydrogen and 
10-6 oxygen; wood 55 hydrogen and 44-5 
oxv'i'en. Of such compounds the cannel 



148 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



yields the richest gas and in largest quan- 
tity. Still, as will be more fully explained 
hereafter, the process may be so conducted 
as to obtain chiefly liquid instead of gaseous 
products. With the olefiant gas and the 
others of similar composition, a number of 
other gases also appear, some of which seem 
to be essential for producing the effect re- 
quired in illuminating gas, though they do 
not themselves afford light by their combus- 
tion. Their part is rather like that of nitro- 
gen in the atmosphere, to moderate the in- 
tensity of the more active agent of the mix- 
ture. Such are the light carburetted hydro- 
gen, carbonic oxide, and hydrogen, all of 
which are inflammable, but possess little or 
no illuminating power. The first named 
contains in an equal volume only half as 
much carbon as olefiant gas, its composition 
being represented by the formula Cj H4, 
and if its proportion is too great for the 
purpose it serves as a diluent, the quality of 
the gas is impaired, and must be corrected 
by the use of richer material or increased 
care in the process. 

The light produced by the combustion 
of gas is variable, not only according to the 
quality of the gas, but also according to the 
manner in which it is burned. If its ele- 
ments undergo the chemical changes which 
constitute combustion simultaneously, the 
hydrogen combining with the oxygen of the 
air to form aqueous vapor, and the carbon 
with oxygen to produce carbonic acid, no 
yellow flame appears, but instead of this, a 
pale blue flame like that of hydrogen alone. 
Such an effect is produced when air is 
thoroughly intermixed with the gas as it 
passes through a tube to the jet where it is 
ignited. But if the conditions of the com- 
bustion are such that the hydrogen burns 
first and appropriates the oxygen in contact 
with the gas, the particles of carbon are 
brought to an incandescent state and pro- 
duce the yellow light before they reach the 
oxygen with which they combine. The 
particles may even be arrested while in trans- 
itu and be deposited upon a cold surface in 
the form of soot. The greatest heat is pro- 
duced with the most thorough mode of 
combustion and the appearance of the pale 
blue flame ; and lamps designed to give 
great heat are now in general use among 
chemists, in which gas is burned in this 
manner. When the air is impelled by a 
bellows they even produce an intensity of 
heat suflBcient for many crucible operations. 



If too much carbon be present a part of 
it escapes unconsumed and produces a 
smoky flame, hence the necessity of the di- 
luents or gases deficient in carbon for neu- 
tralizing the too large proportion of those 
gases richest in carbon. The noxious com- 
pounds in illuminating gas, and which 
should be as far as possible extracted from 
it before it is delivered for consumption, are 
the sulphurous ingredients formed by the 
combination of the sulphur of the iron 
pyrites commonly present in bituminous 
coals with the carbon, and with the hydro- 
gen and the ammoniacal products. They 
are the highly offensive sulphurets of carbon, 
the sulphuretted hydrogen, etc. Carbonic 
acid, nitrogen, oxygen, carbonate of ammo- 
nia and aqueous vapors are to be regarded 
as foreign substances, though always present 
to some extent in the gas. 

The liquids generated by the distillation 
mostly condense in two layers on cooling, 
the upper an aqueous fluid, rendered strong- 
ly alkaline by the ammoniacal compounds in 
solution; and the lower a black tarry mix- 
ture commonly known as coal tar, which is 
composed of more than a dozen different 
oily hydrocarbons, as benzole, tuluole, etc., 
and contain in solution the solid oily com- 
pounds of carbon and hydrogen, as naph- 
thaline, para-naphthaline, and several others. 
Many of these are likely to prove of con- 
siderable practical importance. Benzole is 
a highly volatile fluid, a powerful solvent of 
the resins, india-rubber, gutta percha, greasy 
matters, etc. A most beautiful light is pro- 
duced by the flame of benzole mixed with 
due proportions of common air, and the 
mixture is effected by passing a current of 
air through the fluid, the vapor of which it 
takes up and carries along with it. The 
difficulty attending this application is the 
condensation of the benzole and its separa- 
tion from the air at temperatures below 50°. 
Above 70° too much vapor is taken up, 
and the effect is a smoky flame. In Europe 
much attention has been directed to the 
separation of the more hidden products of 
coal tar ; and among these the following are 
enumerated in a statement exemplifying the 
rapid increase in the value of these prod- 
ucts as they are obtained by more extend- 
ed researches. Benzole worth about 25 
cents a pound ; nitro-benzf)lc, a substance 
having the odor and taste of bitter almonds 
and used as a flavoring, worth, crude, 70 
cents, or refined, $1.50 per pound. The or- 



ILLUMINATING GAS. 



149 



dinary aniline dye for producing the mauve 
coK>r, S4.50 to ^8 per pound, and the pure 
aniline violet in powder $240 to $325 per 
pound, or about its weight in gold. 

Ga-; works established in cities and towns 
are coninionlv built in places where the 
propertv and buildings around arc least like- 
ly to be injured by the escape of the prod- 
ucts, and rather upon a low than a high 
level, for the reason that the gas on account 
of its lightness compared with the atmos- 
pheric air ascends more freely than it de- 
scends to its points of communication with 
the external air. The works consist of the 
apparatus for distilling the coal and receiv- 
ing the products of the distillation, that for 
purifying the gas, and that for conveying it 
to the places where it is consumed, and 
there measuring the quantities supplied to 
each customer. The retorts in general use 
are either of cast iron or of fire clay. The 
latter are a late improvement highly recom- 
mended, and introduced at the present time 
into a few of the gas works. Various forms 
liave been tried ; the most approved are of 
d shape, V to 9 feet long, 1 or 2 feet wide, 
and 12 or 15 inches high. They are set in 
the furnace stacks, commonly two on the 
same horizontal plane, two more over these, 
and a fifth at the top. A single furnace fire 
below is sufficient for heating them, and the 
capacity of the works is increased by multi- 
plying these fires along the length of the 
stacks. Sometimes the stacks are made 
double, so as to take two retorts set end to 
end, each opening on opposite sides of the 
stack. In place of two retorts a single long 
one has been substituted, passing entirely 
through and having at each end an opening 
for charging and discharging. In large es- 
tablishments as many as 600 or more retorts 
may be set, all of which may be kept em- 
ployed in the winter season, when the con- 
sumption of gas is largest. The outer end 
of each retort projects a little way in front 
of the wall of the furnace, and is provided 
with a movable mouth-piece covering the 
entire end, which may be readily removed 
for admitting the charge of coal. Upon the 
top of this projecting end or neck stands 
the cast-iron pipe of about 4 inches in di- 
ameter, called the stand pipe, throuirh which 
the volatile products pass from the retort. 
It rises a few feet, then curves over back, and 
|)asses down into a long horizontal pipe of 
large diameter, which is laid upon the out- 
er edge of the brick-work, and extends the 



whole length of the furnace stacks. This 
is called the hydraulic main, and into it all 
the volatile products from the retorts be- 
neath are discharged. It is kept about half 
filled with water or the licpiid tarry matters, 
and the dip pipes terminate about three 
inches below this fluid surface. By this ar- 
rangement the retorts are kept entirely inde- 
pendent of each other, while their products 
all meet in one receptacle. 

In manufacturing gas it is found neces- 
sary to introduce the charge into the retorts 
already at a full red heat, and bring it as 
rapidly as possible to the high temperature 
required for producing the richest gaseous 
hydrocarbons. A low and slowly increas- 
ing heat causes the ingredients of the charge 
to form a large proportion of liquid and oily 
substances, and little gas. It is only while 
the coal is approaching a vivid red heat 
that the best gaseous mixtures are obtained ; 
and even these are deteriorated by change 
in the composition of the olefiant and other 
rich gases of which they are in part com- 
posed, if the mixture is exposed to too high 
temperature, or remains in contact with red 
hot surfaces of iron. The duration of the 
charge used formerly to be from 8 to 10 
hours ; but from the observations of the 
qualities of the gases evolved at different 
stages of the process, it has gradually been 
reduced to 4 to 6 hours, varying according 
to the character of the coal employed. The 
richest gases are obtained in the first hour, 
and after this the proportional quantity per 
hour steadily diminishes at the same time 
that the quality gradually deteriorates. Tlie 
temptation, however, to obtain the largest 
amount of a commodity which is sold only 
by measure, and to consumers who have no 
means of assuring themselves of its real 
quality, no doubt often leads to extending 
the operation to the separation of gaseous 
mixtures having very little illuminating pow- 
er. The manufacturers knowing their ma- 
terials, and checking their operations by 
regular photomctrical tests, can control the 
quality of the product as they see fit. 

In order that the least loss may be incur- 
red in bringing the charge up to the proper 
temperature, the retorts are kept at a full red 
heat ; and when ready for a new charge the 
mouth-piece is partially removed, and the 
gas that escapes is ignited. When the danger 
of explosion by sudden admission of air has 
passed the lid is removed, and the red hot 
coke is raked out and quenched with water. 



150 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



The new charge is then introduced by means 
of a long iron scoop bent up at the sides, 
which is pushed into the retort, and being 
turned over, discharges its contents. The 
mouth-piece is then replaced, and tightly 
secured with a luting of clay or lime. It is 
obvious that the more perfectly the coal is 
freed from moisture, the better must be the 
gas ; and if it were also first somewhat 
heated, the result would be still more satis- 
factory. The coals employed at the differ- 
ent gas works of the United States are gen- 
erally mixtures of the caking coals of the 
interior, or of those of Richmond, Virginia, 
and of Nova Scotia, with cannel coal, which 
for the cities near the coast is imported 
from Great Britain, and for those in the in- 
terior is obtained from the mines of this coal 
in western Virginia and in Kentucky. The 
larger the proportion of cannel, the better 
should be the gas, under the same method 
of manufacture. In the works in New 
York city, the proportion of cannel is gen- 
erally from one third to one fourth of the 
whole. Other establishments generally use 
a less proportion of it. The amount of gas 
it may produce varies with the kind of can- 
nel from 9500 cubic feet to the ton to 
15,000 cubic feet. The last is the yield of 
the Boghead cannel. In general, the greater 
the yield the better also is the quality of the 
gas, as is indicated by its increased specific 
gravity, that of the cannel last named being 
.752, while the gas from other cannels yield- 
ing about 10,000 cubic feet may not exceed 
.5u0. The best Newcastle coals are not infe- 
rior, either in the amount or quality of the gas 
they afford, to most of the cannels. Ihey 
produce about 12,000 cubic feet of gas to 
the ton, and of specific gravity sometimes 
exceeding .550 or even .600. The specific 
gravity is not depended upon as a certain 
test of the quality of the gas, the density 
of which may be increased by presence of 
impure heavy gases, or even of atmospheric 
air ; but it is resorted to only as an indica- 
tion in the absence of more exact tests. 

The coke obtained from the retorts, 
amounting to about 40 bushels to the ton 
of coals, furnishes all the fuel required for 
the fires beneath, and three times as much 
more, which is sold for fuel. As the vola- 
tile products pass through the hydraulic 
main, the principal portions of the oily and 
ammoniacal compounds are deposited in it ; 
but some of these pass on in vapors, and 
would, if not separated, cause obstructions 



in the pipes in which they might condense 
in liquids and solids. They are consequent- 
ly passed through a succession of tall iron 
pipes standing in the open air, and some- 
times kept cool by water trickling down 
their outside. A pipe from the bottom of 
each pair conveys the condensed tar and 
ammonia into a cistern in the ground. To 
still further separate the condensable por- 
tions, the gas at some works is next passed 
into the bottom of a tower filled with bricks, 
stones, etc., among the interstices of which 
it finds its way up, at the same time that 
water constantly sprinkled on the top is 
working down and keeping the whole cool. 
The water washes away the remaining am- 
monia; but it is to be feared that it also re- 
moves some of the richest hydrocarbons, 
and the use of the wet scrubber, as it is 
called, is already abandoned at some of the 
gas works for similar methods of condens- 
ing, except that the water is dispensed 
with. The gas makes its exit from the top 
of the scrubber ; and its passage being al- 
ready somewhat impeded so as to throw 
considerable pressure back into the retorts, 
thus effecting chemical changes in the gas, 
which impair its quality, it is found neces- 
sary to introduce a revolving exhauster, 
which takes off this pressure, and at the 
same time propels the gas forward into the 
succeeding apparatus. This is first a puri- 
fier, the object of which is to arrest the car- 
bonic acid and sulphurous gases. Dry 
quicklime, and also the solution of this in 
water, known as milk of lime, have the prop- 
erty of absorbing these gases as they are 
made to pass among the particles of the one 
spread upon shelves, or interspersed among 
a porous substance such as dry moss ; or to 
bubble up through the aqueous solution. 
The lime as it becomes saturated with the 
impure gases is replaced with fresh portions. 
The cleansing process is now complete, 
and the gas is in proper condition to be de- 
livered to the consumer. It must first, how- 
ever, be measured, that a record may be kept 
of the quantity produced, and it is next con- 
ducted into the great gas-holders in which 
it is stored. The measurement is effected 
by means of a large station meter, construct- 
ed on the principle of the small service- 
meters, with one of which each consumer is 
supplied. A revolving drum with four com- 
partments of equal capacity is made to rotate 
in a tight box by the gas entering and fill- 
ing one of these compartments after another. 



ILLUMINATING GAS. 



151 



Their capacity being known, and the number 
of revolutions being recorded by a train of 
wheel-work outside the box, the quantity of 
gas which passes through is exactly indica- 
ted. The largest meters pass about G50 
cubic feet by one revolution of the drum, or 
about 70,()U0 cubic feet in an hour. 

The gas-holders are the large cylindrical 
vessels of plate iron, the most conspicuous 
objects at the gas works. Each one is set 
with its open end down, and immersed in a 
cistern of water of diameter a little exceed- 
ing its own. It is buoyed up by the water, 
and also counterbalanced by weights passing 
over pulleys. The gas admitted under the 
inverted cylinder lifts this up, and tills all 
the portion above the water. The weight 
of the cylinder when tlie influx is shut oft", 
and the discharge pipes are opened presses 
the gas out and through the mains to the 
points where it is consumed. The gas-hold- 
ers of the largest works are of immense 
size. In Philadelphia, there is one 160 feet 
in diameter and 95 feet high, holding 1,800,- 
000 cubic feet of gas. Even this is exceeded 
by one at the Imperial Gas Company's works, 
London, which is 201 feet in diameter, 80 
feet high, and of the capacity of 2,500,000 
cubic feet. This cost upward of $200,000 ; 
and contains 1500 tons of iron, 5000 cubic 
feet of stone work, and 2,000,000 bricks. 
No advantage is gained in a single structure 
of this immense size over several smaller 
ones. On tlie contrary, this involves heavy 
expenditures to protect them against the 
force of the wind, and render them manage- 
able. Those of great height are made in 
sections, which shut one within another in 
descending, like the parts of a telescope. 
As each section is lifted in turn out of the 
water, its lower edge, wliich is turned up in 
an outward direction, forming an annular 
cup, includes a portion of water, into which 
the upper edge of the next lower section 
catches, being turned over inward for this 
purpose. A gas-tight joint between the two 
sections is thus formed. 

To insure uniformity of pressure, as the 
gas enters the mains it is first made to pass 
through the apparatus called a governor, in 
which, according to the force or slowness 
with which it moves, it causes a valve to rise 
and partially close an aperture within the 
machine through which the gas flows, or to 
descend and open this aperture. The in- 
crease of pressure as the gas is carried to 
higher levels, amounting to one fifth of an 



inch of water in every 30 feet, renders it 
important in hilly towns to have governors 
upon different levels. In high buildings a 
very sensible ditVerence is perceived in the 
force witli which the gas issues from the 
burners on the different stories. This in- 
volves a waste of gas where tlie pressure is 
great, for under such conditions a consider- 
able portion of that consumed adds little 
to the illuminating effect. Various govern- 
ors or regulators have been devised for the 
use of consumers with a view of producing 
an increase of light with reduced consump- 
tion of gas ; and when judiciously applied, 
some of them, as Kidder's and Stirling's, have 
proved very successful. The latter has been 
introduced into some of the public buildings 
of New York city, controlled by the Street 
Department, and according to tlie report of 
the Street Commissioner, the saving has 
been in many instances very remai'kable. 

Each consumer of gas is supplied with a 
meter, which is under the control of the 
gas company ; and from its indications the 
amount furnished is determined by inspec- 
tion every month. 

Though in the use of gas the consumer is 
in a great measure dependent on the manu- 
facturer as regards the economy of tlie light, 
there are several points, by giving personal 
attention to which, he may more fully real- 
ize the saving it affords. In the first place, 
he must be aware that every one employing 
this source of light uses it more freely than 
that derived from lamps and candles. It is 
enjoyed with so little trouble and apparent 
cost, that much more light is soon regarded 
essential, than was perfectly satisfactory un- 
der the old methods of producing it. Ue 
should next see that the area of the delivery 
pipe bears such proportion to the quantity 
usually required, that there is no undue pres- 
sure upon the burners, as is evident when 
the gas "blows" through them as it burns. 
This should be checked by shutting oflf a 
part of the supply by means of the stup-cock 
at the meter; and this should be looked to 
after every visit of the gas man to the meter. 
The regulator also is intended to remedy 
this over supply, but it may still be neces- 
sary to keep part of the gas turned off", and 
by so doing the regulator may be dispensed 
with. Attention should next be directed to 
the burners, that those of largest size, such as 
consume with the ordinary pressure six feet 
or more of gas an hour, should bo placed 
only where the greatest quantity of light is 



152 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



required, and that burners of four feet, three 
feet, two feet, or even one foot an hour, be 
placed "whei'e the light they give will be suf- 
ficient. The burners called Scotch tips, giv- 
ing what is called the fish-tail flame, are in 
common use, but a great variety of others 
have been contrived, and some of them are 
highly recommended for affording more light 
with the same amount of gas. All, however, 
are liable to become foul after a time, and 
should be occasionally cleaned or replaced. 
The iron of which they are made is corrod- 
ed by the ingredients of the gas, especialh^ 
when not in use, and air entering its ele- 
ments form acid compounds with those of 
the gas which remain in the open portion 
of the pipe. The argand burner is recom- 
mended for the powerful and steady light it 
gives, but it is far from being economical, and 
moreover produces groat heat. For a steady 
light Gleason's " American gas-burner" com- 
bines the advantages of brilliant light, steadi- 
ness of flame, and moderate consumption. 

The quality of gas is determined either by 
analysis, or more conveniently by testing 
with the photometer its comparative capac- 
ity of producing light. The standard adopt- 
ed for comparison is spermaceti candles, each 
one burning 120 grains in an hour. An ar- 
gand burner consuming five feet of gas an 
hour (the quantity carefully proved by the 
meter) is used in making the trial ; and the 
number of candles required to produce an 
equal amount of light indicates the quality 
of the gas. At the points of consumption 
this is sometimes inferior to that of the gas 
at the works before it enters the gas-holders 
and passes through the mains ; but in very 
cold weather, by the condensation of the 
richest hydrocarbon vapor in the pipes, the 
gas that reaches the burners is poorer than 
that which left the works. Consequently 
these facts should be taken into consider- 
ation in estimating the quality of gas fur- 
nished by any establishment. Again, after 
a period of excessive cold weather, when the 
gas has burned dimly by the condensation 
of its best portions in the pipes — it may be 
to the extent at times of obstructing the flow 
through them — and with the return of milder 
weather the vapors are released and mix with 
the new gas, they sometimes so overburden 
this with an undue proportion of the richest 
compounds, that with the ordinary burners 
the gas cannot be consumed, and the result 
is a smoky flame, of which the consumers 
make great complaint, believing it to be 



caused by inferior gas. Such are some of 
the causes, over which the manufacturers 
have no control, that involve more or less ir- 
regularity in the quality of the gas supplied. 

The gas produced at diff"erent works is of 
various qualities. That of the Manhattan 
Gas Light Company is rated at sixteen can- 
dles, and is probably as good as any furnish- 
ed in our cities. It is tested daily with the 
photometer at their office, at the corner of 
Irving Place and Fifteenth street. New York. 
In England, the gas of the London works va- 
ries from eleven to eighteen candles. That 
of Liverpool is much better, sometimes being 
equal to twenty-two candles. 

Other materials than coal have been ap- 
plied to some extent in the United States 
for producing gas, chiefly for small supplies 
for single buildings. The most successful of 
these processes is that with rosin oil. Tlie 
apparatus is exceedingly simple, and is placed 
in an apartment in an out-building. It con- 
sists of a stove containing a chamber in the 
top, into which the rosin oil is allowed to 
drop slowly. It is decomposed by the heat 
of the surface upon which it falls, and the 
gaseous products pass immediately through 
the pipes into the gas-holder, whence they are 
distributed as at the large gas works. The 
supply for a week may be made in less than 
an hour with very little attention from the 
person in charge. The gas is superior to 
that from coal, and the expense, not reckon- 
ing the cost of the gas-holder and the appa- 
ratus, is less than the price ordinarily paid 
for gas. 

In Philadelphia wood has been success- 
fully used at the Maikct street bridge works. 
Six retorts have been kept in operation with 
it for some time, and the yield and quality 
of the gas have proved very satisfactory. As 
in the use of coal, it is found necessary to 
charge the material into retorts already at a 
high heat, otherwise the gaseous products 
have little illuminating power. Gas thus 
made from pine wood has been found to 
contain 10.57 per cent, of olefiant gas, and 
that from oak G.46 per cent. 

Hydrocarbon Gas. — What is known as 
the hydrocarbon or water gas manufacture 
was introduced into Philadelphia in 1858, 
and according to the published reports, its 
application to lighting a portion of the Girard 
Ilouse in that city, proved for several months 
perfectly satisfactory. It was introduced 
into the town of Aurora, Indiana, in January, 
1861, and according to the statements pub- 



ILLUMINATING GAS. 



153 



lisheJ in the Cinoimiati Daily Commercial, 
the openitiou liad heen very successful. 
The light is described as very brilliant, and 
the gas almost free from odor. The process 
appears to be similar to that of Mr. White, 
of Manchester, England, which consists in 
the generation of the non-illuminating gases 
by the action of steam upon charcoal highly 
lieated in a retort, the aqueous vapor being 
thereby decomposed, and various gaseous 
compounds produced by its hydrogen and 
oxygen combining with the carbon of the 
charcoal. If the operation is properly con- 
ducted these compounds should be almost 
entirely carbonic oxide and free hydrogen; 
if carbonic acid is produced, as it may well 
be, even to the extent of one per cent., it 
may involve the expense of purification by 
means of a lime purifier. These gases are 
immediately passed through another retort, 
in which the illuminating gases are genera- 
ted, and mixing with them the whole is im- 
mediately swept forward out of the reach of 
the high decomposing temperature. The 
material employed for furnishing the illumi- 
nating gas is either rosin or rosin oil gadual- 
ly dropped into the heated retort ; and it is 
stated that various other carbonaceous sub- 
stances, as the tar from the gas works and 
cheap greasy compounds, may be economi- 
cally applied. 

Although this method of producing gas 
has been highly recommended by eminent 
English authorities, especially by Dr. Frank- 
land, an account of whose experiments and 
conclusions is given in the recent edition of 
lire's Dictionary (London, 1860), vol. i., p. 
778, it has not lieen adopted by gas compa- 
nies, whose first interest it would be to avail 
themselves of such improvements, and it is 
reasonable to suppose there are some insu- 
perable objections to it. Indeed, in the last 
edition of Clegg's " Treatise upon the Man- 
ufacture and Use of Gas," the subject is 
passed l)y with scarcely any notice, although 
it had been in the previous edition treated 
in detail and with commendation. In the 
English Gas Journal, it is decidedly con- 
demned. No analyses of the gas thus pro- 
duced in this country have ever been pub- 
lished, nor any reports of photometrical ex- 
periments that might establish its light-giv- 
ing capacity. As the subject for some time 
attracted nmch attention, and has given rise 
to extravagant expe(,'tations (if clicap pro- 
duction of gas, it is very desirable that such 
trials and reports should be made by some 



competent chemist. In Philadelphia, the 
subject has given rise to a newspaper con- 
troversy, and the publications were embod- 
ied, in 1860, in a pamphlet entitled "The 
Water Gas Correspondence." They contain- 
ed nothing, however, to determine the real 
merits of the gas. 

Gas for Steamboats and Railroad 
Cars. — Several methods have recently been 
put in practice of furnishing gas for the con- 
venience of passengers in steam vessels, or 
upon railroads. One plan is to place in the 
boats or under the cars large eases of sheet 
iron, each one provided with a diaphragm 
or partition of india-rubber across its upper 
portion. A connection being made between 
the receptacle under the diaphragm and the 
street main, the gas fills this portion of the 
case and the connection is then shut off. 
When required for use, the gas is forced out 
by the pressure of air uniforndy applied upon 
the upper surface of the india-rubber sheet 
by means of a meter running by clock work. 
This method has so far been successful ; but 
danger is apprehended by some that atmos- 
pheric air may find its way through the 
flexible sheets, all of which are more or less 
permeable when used to separate diflferent 
gaseous compounds, and that an explosive 
mixture may thus be introduced. By an- 
other plan of a New York company, the gas 
by means of force pumps is compressed into 
strong cylindrical gas-holders made like the 
boilers of steam engines. The gas is thus 
made to occupy a diminished space in pro- 
portion to the pressure used, that of 20 at- 
mospheres placing 1000 cubic feet of gas in 
50 feet space. In Jersey City, where this 
method has been applied to furnishing gas 
for railroad cars, the pressure employed is 
about 450 lbs. upon the square inch. Un- 
der this pressure the gas is conveyed through 
pipes to the points where the cars receive 
from them their supplies. The gas by its 
elasticity presses through the burners, and 
uniformity of discharge while this force is 
constantly diminishing is secured by a gov- 
ernor or regulator constructed on the princi- 
ple already described. 

Gas for Fuel. — Besides its use for pro- 
ducing light, gas has lately been applied to 
other domestic purposes for the sake of the 
heat it can be made to afford in burning. It 
was thus first used by chemists, and mechan- 
ics, as bookbinders, then applied it in suit- 
able stoves to the heating of such tools as 
they required of a high temperature. After 



154 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



this stoves were contrived on different plans 
in wliich various culinary operations might 
be conducted, and some also for warming 
rooms. Though it would appear to be an 
expensive fuel, it has been found for many 
purposes, in which only a certain amount of 
heat is required, and this for a short time, 
not merely exceedingly convenient, but even 
economical. No more need be consumed 
than is required to effect the desired pur- 
pose, and it is moreover applied directly to 
the object to be heated with little dispersion 
or waste of heat. But for warming rooms, it 
is objectionable, not only on account of its 
cost, but also from its vitiating the atmos- 
phere by the large amount of the noxious 
gases produced by its combustion. If these 
are conveyed away by ventilating flues, they 
carry with them a considerable portion of 
the caloric set free. No doubt when gas is 
afforded at lower rates, means will be devised 
of applying it more advantageously to this 
purpose. 



CHAPTER XL 

HYDROCARBON OR COAL OILS. 

Notwithstanding the substitution in the 
cities and most of the towns of considerable 
size throughout the country of gas for oils, 
the demand for the latter has increased much 
faster than the supply, as is shown by the 
price for sperm oil being now more than 
three times what it was in 1843, when it 
brought about fifty-five cents per gallon. 
Besides its use for illuminating purposes, 
the consumption of oil is enormous for 
lubricating machinery. The railroads and 
steamboats, and the increasing numbers of 
large factories, demand such quantities of it 
that all the ordinary sources of supply were 
overtasked, and the whaling business former- 
ly so prosperous in New England, has fallen 
off in the face of advancing prices, or been 
forced to gather itself in fewer centres, where 
by concentration of its operations the busi- 
ness could be conducted with the greatest 
economy. From many seaports of New Eng- 
land this business has quite disappeared, and 
the following changes in others are reported 
to have taken place between the years 1843 
and 1859. In the former period New Bed- 
ford had 214 whale ships, and in 1859 the 
number had increased to 316. In New Lon- 
don, Conn., the number had increased from 
45 to 56, and in Mattapoiset from 11 to 19. 



In other towns the number of ships had fallen 
off as follows: Nantucket, to 33 from 85; Sag 
Harbor, to 20 from 43 ; Warren, R. I., to 15 
from 21, etc. At Fairhaven, 46 ships were 
owned at both periods. The manufacture of 
lard oil, which of late years has been exten- 
sively carried on in the Western states, failed 
to meet the increasing demands, when at last 
attention began to be directed to the extrac- 
tion of oils from the bituminous coals and 
shales, by processes of recent introduction in 
France and England. The success attained 
by Mr. James Young, of Glasgow, in his treat- 
ment of the " Torbane Ilill mineral," or Bog- 
head cannel of Scotland, served more than 
any thing else to give encouragement to this 
enterprise. In 1854, according to the testi- 
mony of this practical chemist, in a lawsuit 
in London, he was producing about 8000 
gallons a week of an oil he called paraffine 
oil, which sold for 5s. a gallon, the sales 
amounting in all to about $500,000 per an- 
num, of which the greater portion was profit. 
Operations of a similar character had for 
some time previously been conducted upon 
a large scale at Autun, Department of the 
Saone and Loire, in France ; the materials 
employed being highly bituminous shales, 
probably not essentially different from the 
Torbane Hill mineral, except in producing 
much less oil to the ton. 

The first factory for making coal oil in the 
United States was established on Newtown 
Creek, Long Island, opposite New York city, 
and commenced operations in June, 1854. 
This was known as the Kerosene Oil Works, 
and was designed to work the Boghead can- 
nel, or coal of similar character from the 
province of New Brunswick, or from the 
West, by the patented process of Mr. Young. 
In Kentucky, Ohio, Virginia, and Pennsyl- 
vania cannel coals were found of suitable 
qualities for this manufacture; and in 1856 
the Breckenridge Coal Oil Works were in suc- 
cessful operation at Cloverport, on the Ohio 
river, in Breckenridge county, Ky. The same 
year a factory was built in Perry county, 
Ohio, by Messrs. Dillie and Robinson, and 
others rapidly sprung up in the vicinity of 
Newark, which soon became an important 
centre of this new business. In 1858, sev- 
eral large factories were built in New Eng- 
land, one in Boston, and one in Portland, 
Maine. It is doubtful whether Young was 
the first inventor or discoverer of this, for 
as we shall see, the late Baron von Reechen- 
bach had many years before distilled some 



HYDROCARBON OR COAL OILS. 



155 



TABLE OF THE COAL OIL WORKS OF THE UNITED STATES. 
State. Town or county. Nome of works. No. of factories. 



Maine, Portland Portland Company 

Massachusetts, Boston Downer Kerosene Co 

" Pap:e & Co 

» " Suffolk Company .. 

" " Pinkham 

" " Peasley 

" Ea.st CamV)ridge E. Cambridge Company. . 

" New Bedford New Bedford Company. . 

Connecticut, Hartford Hartford Company 

'• Stamford Stamford Company , 

New York, Newtown Creek, L. I Kerosene Oil Company. . 

'' Hunter's Pomt, L. I Luther Atwood 

" " Carbon Company 

" South Brooklyn Empire State Company. . 

" " Franklin Company 

" Williamsburgh Long Island Company. . . 

•' " Knickerbocker Company. 

» " Fountain Oil Co 

" Harlem Beloni & Co 

" " Excelsior Company 

Pennsylvania, Darlington, Beaver Co Anderson & Co 



Ohio, 



Tirglnia, 



Kiskiminitas. . Aladdin Company , 

" Lucesco Company 

Freeport, Armstrong Co North American Company. 

New Galilee New Galilee 

Eiion Valley. Eiion Valley Company. . . . 

¥j. Palestine, Columbiana Co. . . .Palestine Company 

Canfield, Mahoning Co Cornell & Company 

" " Sherwood 

" " Phoenix 

" " Mystic 

" " Canfield 

Cleveland Dean 

Zanesville Brooks 

" Cox 

Newark, Licking Co Great Western 

" " Three others 

Steuben ville, Jefferson Co 

Cosliocton Co 

Columbus, Franklin Co 

Cincinnati Grasseli 

" Western Company 

" Phoenix Company , 

Perry Co Robinson & Co 

Kanawha region Falling Rock Company. . . 

" " Forest Hill Company 



Kentucky, 

Kentucky, 
it 

« 

Missouri, 



" " Greers. 

" " Great Kanawha Company 

" " Staunton Company 

" " Atlantic Company 

" '• Union Company 

" " K. C. C. M. and 0. M. Company. .. 

Preston Co Preston Company 

Monongalia Co White Bay Company 

Ritchie Co Ritchie Company 

Wheeling New York and Wheeling Company. 

Taylor Co Marion Company 

Maysville, Mason Co Union Company 

" Ashland 

Cloverport, Breckenridge Co. 

Covington and Newport, opposite Cincinnati 

0\v.-<lcy Co 

St. Louis 



Daily 

capacity 

in ISGO. 

Oallona. 

4000 

4000 

600 

300 



800 
300 
200 

4000 

2000 

300 

300 

500 



400 
50 



2000 



500 



74 



156 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE TTNITKD STATES. 



ounces of a naphtha from pit coal, which was 
substantially identical with Young's ; and 
several other chemists claim to have arrived 
at similar results ; but Young was certainly 
the first to produce the oil on a commercial 
scale. 

So rapid was the increase in the demand 
for this oil, that in 1860 there were nearly 
80 manufactories in the United States, em- 
ploying over $3,000,000 capital, and produc 
ing oil naphthalin and paraffin to the amount 
of five millions of dollars annually. The 
coal oil manufacture had assumed at abound, 
an importance, which gave it the leading 
place among the new manufactures of the 
previous decade. The production of illu- 
minating oils exceeded in that year ten mil- 
lion gallons, and about five millions of gallons 
of the heavy lubricating oils and paraffine. 
The man who had preiiicted that within the 
next three years all this activity of produc- 
tion would cease, and another article then 
just coming into notice would supersede it, 
and attain to ten times its extent, would have 
been deemed little less than a mad-man. Y''et 
this was precisely what happened. 

HISTORY AND METHOD OF THE MANUFACTURE. 

Tlie possibility of extracting oil from bitu- 
minous minerals appears to have been known 
since the year 1694, a patent having been 
granted in .January of that year to Martin 
Eele, Thomas Hancock, and William Port- 
lock, for " a way to extract and make great 
quantities of pitch, tarr, and oyle out of a 
sort of stone, of which there is a sufficient 
found within our dominions of England and 
Wales." This stone proved to be a bitumi- 
nous shale ; and in 1716 it was again applied 
to similar use under another patent, granted 
to M. & T. Belton, of Shrewsbury. In the 
course of the eighteenth century the oily 
product obtained was employed to some ex- 
tent as a medicine, under the name of Brit- 
ish or petroleum oil. Though from time to 
time other patents were granted in England 
for the same process, the business never be- 
came of importance there until the success- 
ful trials were made by Mr. James Young, 
of Glasgow, upon the Boghead cannel al- 
ready referred to. On the continent the 
subject was brought before the public by the 
researches of Baron Von Reichenbach in 



1829, '30, and '31, when he discovered and 
separated numerous new compounds from 
the products of the slow distillation ot bitu- 
minous substances. The compound he named 
eupion is the same thing as the rectified oil 
now known as coal oil, paraffine oil, kerosene, 
photogenic, pyrogenic oil, and by other local 
or commercial names. He appreciated its 
useful properties, and recommended the pros- 
ecution of further trials with the object of 
establishing the best mode of separating it. 
In France its chai'acter was understood in 
1824, when a patent was granted for its man- 
ufacture ; and in 1833 factories were in op- 
eration for producing it. In 1834 the meth- 
od adopted by Selligue was first published, 
and in the specification of the patent granted 
to him, March 19, 1845, is a full account of 
the process as conducted in the works at 
Autun. This is still the best treatise pub- 
lished upon the manufacture, and notwith- 
standing the numerous patents which have 
since been issued, the improvements are lim- 
ited to comparatively unimportant modifica- 
tions of the apparatus. In the United States 
the first patent granted in this manufacture 
was in March, 1852, to James Young for his 
process, which in this country was first intro- 
duced at the kerosene oil works on Newtown 
Creek. The next year two patents were grant- 
ed, in 1854 and 1855 one each, in 1856 six, 
in 1858 seven, and in 1859 twenty-two. 

As mentioned in the preceding chapter, 
the products obtained by the distillation of 
bituminous substances vary according to the 
amount of heat employed and the manner 
ov its application, whether sudden or grad- 
ual. Coals thrown into red hot retorts are 
resolved into large quantities of gas, with 
the production of inconsiderable quantities 
of oily compounds heavier in the aggregate 
than water, and called coal tar. They con- 
sist of a variety of hydrocarbons, as the 
fluids designated by the name of na()htha, 
the white crystalline substance c;illed naph- 
thaline, the very volatile fluid benzole, be- 
sides carbolic acid and a great number of 
other curious and interesting compounds of 
hydrogen and carbon. In general they con- 
tain a less proportional amount of hydrogen 
than the products obtained by slow distilla 
tion, the fluids are denser, and their boiling 
points higher. 



HYDROCARBON OR COAL OILS. 



167 



When the bituminous substances are grad- 
ually and moderately heated in retorts, the 
production of gas is small, the carbon and 
hydrogen separating chiefly in the form of 
oily compounds of a greenish color, the spe- 
citic gravity of which is less than water. 
These compounds form what is called crude 
coal oil, and arc similar in appearance and 
composition to the natural petroleum, or rock 
oil, obtained in some places from the earth, 
as will be described in the next chapter. 
Benzole and naphthaline, products of the 
other method of distillation, are found, if at 
all, as a result of the employment of too 
high heat, and instead of the latter the waxy 
or spermaceti-like substance called paraffine 
is generated and is held in solution in the 
oils, from which it may be separated by re- 
peated distillations, and draining oti' through 
filters and pressing out the fluid portions of 
the concentrated residues, at the lowest avail- 
able temperatures. The oily products are 
divisible into a great number of distinct 
compounds by means of repeated distilla- 
tions, each one being carefully conducted at 
a certain degree of temperature, and the 
product which comes over at this degree be- 
ing kept by itself. But in the large way 
they are separated into only three classes, 
which are distinguished as the light oils for 
lamps, the heavy oils which are suitable for 
lubricating purposes, and paraffine. Some- 
times a mixture of the heaviest oils and par- 
affine is made use of and sold for wagon 
grease and such purposes; and the first prod- 
ucts which come over in the distillation are 
kept by themselves, and sold under the name 
of naphtha (or incorrectly as benzole) to be 
used as a solvent for the resins, caoutchouc, 
etc., and for removing grease spots from fab- 
rics. 

The proportions obtained from a ton of 
coal or shale are very variable. The Bog- 
head cannel yields, in well-conducted opera- 
tions, about 117 gallons of crude oil, from 
which the product of refined oil is about 60 
gallons. It can be made to produce even 
l;iO gallons of crude oil, containing a larger 
proportion of refined oil than the 117 gal- 
lons ordinarily obtained. The Breckenridge 
coal yields from 90 to 100 gallons of crude 
oil, and this 50 to 60 of refined oil. The 
Cannelton coal of Virginia is of similar 
quality to the Breckenridge cannel. The 
coals of Ohio run from 55 to 87 gallons of 
crude oils to the ton, and those of Dailing- 
ton, Penn., from 45 to 55 gallons. Besides 



the oils there also come over from the re- 
torts, as in the gas manufacture, a quantity 
of water rendered alkaline by the ammonia 
it holds. This collects at the bottom of the 
reservoirs into which the products are re- 
ceived, and the oil that floats upon the sur- 
face being removed the ammoniacal liquors 
are allowed to escape. 

While the general plan of the operations 
is the same in all the factoi'ies, the apparatus 
is variously modified. l>y Mr. Young's proc- 
ess the coal is distilled in cast-iron Q -shaped 
retorts, like those employed in making gas, 
and the volatile products ai-e passed by a 
worm through a refrigerator kej)t at a tem- 
perature of about 55° F. The oils as they 
condense drop from the end of the worm 
into a receiver. Many patents have been 
granted in Europe and in this country for 
different kinds of retorts. Some are made 
of cylindrical form and set upiight in the 
furnace ; the charge is introduced at the top 
and drawn out, when exhausted, at the bot- 
tom; the volatile products making their exit 
either through pipes at the top or at differ- 
ent heights. Some have been constructed 
of fire clay instead of cast iron. In order 
that the charge may be uniformly heated, 
revolving cylindrical retorts have been con- 
trived and patented, first in France many 
years ago, and recently in the United States. 
They are sometimes eight feet long and six 
feet diameter, suspended upon an axle at each 
end. Tliey are charged through a manhole 
in the front end like the common horizontal 
retorts, and the vapors pass out through the 
axle at the opposite end, which is made hol- 
low for this purpose. Retorts of the size 
named are charged with about a ton of can- 
nel coal, and four such cliarg(?s may be 
worked off in twenty-four hours. They re- 
volve slowly, about twice in a minute, thus 
turning the charge over and causing it to be 
uniformly exposed to the fire beneath. At 
the Lucesco works, thirty miles above Pitts- 
burg, on the Alleghany, ten large revolving 
retorts are stated to be in operation, each 
one of the capacity of two and a half tons. 
They are recommended for the rapidity with 
which the process is conducted, and the large 
amount of oil obtained to the ton of coal 
while they continue in good order; and on 
the other hand it is objected to them that 
the coal is apt to be ground to powder, and 
the dust is carried along with the vapors, ob- 
structing the coiiden-iiig worm and adding 
to the cost of purilicaiiun. They are, more- 



158 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



over, expensive to construct and liable to get 
out of order. 

By all these arrangements the fire which 
causes the expulsion of the volatile matters 
is outside of the retorts. But the same ob- 
ject is also attained by the use of ovens and 
pits similar to those used for producing 
charcoal and coke, in which the material 
operated upon is itself partially consumed, 
to generate the heat required to drive off so 
much of its volatile constituents as may es- 
cape combustion. Kilns thus designed for 
extracting coal oils have been in use in this 
country and in Europe ; and in Virginia, 
near Wheeling, the plan has been adopted 
of distilling the coal or shale in large pits 
dug in the ground of capacity sufficient to 
contain 100 tons of the raw material. These 
are covered with earth, and the fire being 
started at one end, the heat spreads the vol- 
atile products forward, and they are drawn 
out at the opposite end by the exhausting 
action caused by a jet of steam, and received 
into suitable condensing apparatus. Some 
of the kilns are constructed to be fired at 
the bottom, and the vapors then pass up- 
ward through the charge, and are conveyed 
in pipes from the top to the condensers. 
The kilns of the Kerosene Oil Company, 
patented by Mr. Luther Atwood, are made 
open at the top, and a downward draught 
through the charge, which is fired on the 
upper surface, is produced by a steam jet 
thrown into the eduction pipe that passes 
out from the bottom of the kiln. A partial 
vacuum is thus produced, causing a current 
of air to flow in from the kiln. At the 
works of this company there are 1 8 of these 
kilns in shape like a circular lime kiln, built 
of ordinary brick and lined with fire brick. 
They are 20 feet high and 12 feet diameter 
inside, each one having a capacity of over 
25 tons of coal. AVhcn this amount of 
Boghead cannel is introduced it is covered 
with about four tons of Cumberland coal and 
a quantity of pine wood. This is set on 
fire, and at the same time the steam jet is 
let on. The heated gases from the com- 
bustibles above pass through the bituminous 
materials below ; but little air reaches these 
that is not already deprived of its power of 
sustaining further combustion. The volatile 
products are gradually expelled before the 
slowly increasing heat, and the operation is 
not completed till the expiration of four 
days. It is hastened or checked, as may be 
necessary, by means of the steam jet by 



which the draught is controlled. What is 
left in the kiln is unconsumed coal and ashes 
— no good coke is produced. The condens- 
ers at these works are tall cylinders of boil- 
er-plate iron. Passing through a succession 
of these the vapors collect and trickle down 
their sides, and the mixed oily and aqueous 
products are received into iron vats placed 
in the ground. The uncondensable gases 
escape into the open air fiom the top of the 
last of the cylinders. From the vats the oil 
rising to the surface flows over into a con- 
duit that leads to a large cistern in the 
ground of the capacity of 40,000 gallons. 
The water at the same time is discharged by 
a pipe, one end of which is at the bottom 
of the vat, and the other is bent over its up- 
per edge, the flow being caused by the dif- 
ference of an inch in the elevation of the 
surface of the two vats. Some oil is car- 
ried over into the second vat, and this is 
separated by a repetition of the same ar- 
rangement, and so on through several vats, 
till the ammoniacal waters are finally allowed 
to escape after being first received into a 
large cistern, where some oil still collects 
upon the surface, and is removed by occa- 
sional skimming. 

Still another method of conducting the dry 
distillation is by the introduction of highly 
heated steam into the retorts, as patented 
by Mr. William Brown, in 1853, in England 
and in this country, though this seems also 
to have been used in the original opei'ations 
fif .ScUigue in France. The effect of the 
steam is to aid in heating the charge, while 
at the same time the vapors are taken up 
and carried along by it, and protected from 
being burned or decomposed by remaining 
in contact with the hot surfaces of the re- 
tort. In the subsequent distillation of the 
crude oil, high steam is similarly applied in 
the stills. 

Nearly the same process of refining is 
practised at all the factories. The crude oil 
is pumped up into large stills of cast or 
boiler-plate iron, with cast-iron bottoms two 
inches thick. The capacity of these at the 
woi'ks above referred to is 1500 gallons 
each, and the time required for distilling ofl' 
this amount of oil is 24 hours. They are 
heated by fires of anthracite and coke, the 
latter being itself a product of the distilla- 
tion and obtained from the inside of the stills 
after each heat. It is deposited fiom the ci-ude 
oil and forms a solid and extremely hard in- 
crustation which is sometimes nearly a foot 



HTDROCARBON OR COAL OILS. 



159 



thick upon the bottom of the stills. It 
is a much superior coke to that obtained 
from the gas retorts, and in its structure is 
coarsely honey-combed in the upper or last 
formed portions, giadiially growing closer 
and more compact toward the bottom 
upon which it adheres. The distillation 
should be conducted at a temperature not 
exceeding 800*^ F., and the process may be 
rendered coTitinuous by admitting a small 
stream of oil into the stills. The vapors 
passing through the goose-neck are con- 
densed in a long worm kept in the water con- 
denser, which should be, in the latter part of 
the distillation, at a temperature of 80° or 
more. It is necessary to guard against so low 
temperature as might cause the paraffine to 
solidify in the worm, which by stopping the 
flow of the products might result in blowing 
up the still. The heat is carefully regulated 
so that the oil conies over uniformly, tlowing 
from the end of the worm in a steady stream. 
It is still of a greenish color, with more or less 
of its peculiar, disagreeable odor. Yet it is 
evidently purified to a considerable extent 
by its separation from the free carbon and 
other impurities, usually amounting to 10 
or 12 per cent., which are left behind in 
the stills. The oils are next pumped into 
large cylindrical cisterns called agitators, to 
undergo the chemical treatment, which is 
in general the same as that practised by 
Selligue. An addition is made to them of a 
quantity of sulphuric acid, it may be to the 
amount of 5 per cent. The mixture is 
then violently agitated or made to sweep 
rapidly round by stirrers in the cisterns, 
moved by machinery. The pure oil and 
paraffine are unatiected by the chemical 
agents, but the carbonaceous particles and 
coloring matters aie more or less charied and 
oxidized, and their condition is so changed 
tliat when the mixture is left for some hours 
to repose, they sui)side in gi-eat part togeth- 
er with the acid, and these can then be 
drawn off leaving the partially purified oil in 
the upper portion of the cisterns. This is 
next washed with about one fifth its quantity 
of water, which removes the soluble impu- 
rities and a portion of the remaining acid. 
These, after subsiding, being drawn off, a 
strong lye of potash or soda is introduced 
into the oil, which neutralizes and fixes what 
acid remains, and causes the precipitation of 
farther portions of the coloring and tari-y 
matters. The mixture is again agitated and 
is then left six hours to repose, after which 



the sediment being drawn off, it is again 
washed with water, and this too, with the 
matters it has taken uj), are drawn off. In 
some places chalk or lime has been employ- 
ed instead of the alkaline lye to neutralize 
and fix the acid, and the chemical treatment, 
as it is called, is in other respects variously 
modified. Though this has been designated 
the "cold" treatment, the temperature should 
not be allowed to fall below 90"^ during these 
processes. 

At last the oils freed from most of their 
impurities are introduced into stills like 
those of the first set. The product which 
first comes over is a very light oil somewhat 
discolored, which is soon followed by a clear 
oil having little odor. This gradually in- 
creases in density from 0.7.33 to 0.820, up 
to which point the mixture of oils is class- 
ed as illuminating, and is without further 
preparation sufficiently pure to be at once 
barrelled for the market. After this the in- 
creasing depth of the color and the greater 
density of the product indicate that the 
light oils have been nearly exhausted, and 
the remaining portions are hence kept by 
themselves to afford the heavy lubricating 
oils, and also it may be, by means of frac- 
tional distillation, the additional quantities 
of light oils they still contain, and finally 
the paraffine which is chiefly concentrated 
with the last portions. This substance when 
separated from the oils by filtration and 
pressure at low temperatures, is of a dark 
color and somewhat offensive odor ; and to 
bleach and deodorize it have proved to be 
somewhat troublesome and expensive opera- 
tions. Exposure to the sunlight has a bleach- 
ing effect; but the processes for this purpose 
have not yet been made public. When ob- 
tained pei'fectly pure and white, difficulties 
have been encountered in running it into 
candles, which are not common to other ma- 
terials used for this purpose. AMien cooled 
in ordinary moulds the paraffine would crack 
in lines radiating from the wick, and the ex- 
terior would present a clouded, mottled sur- 
face. The method of obviating this difficul- 
ty, as described in the French work, " Le 
Technologiste," of 1859, is to use a mould 
in two parts, that part for the point of the 
candle working in the other like a piston. 
These moulds being brought to the temper- 
ature of melted parafline are filled and then 
immediately plunged into water at nearly the 
freezing point. Having remained 3 or 4 
minutes, they are taken out and exj)oscd to 



160 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



a current of cool air for 15 or 20 minutes. 
The candles then come out, as the movable 
part of the mould is pushed in, free from 
defects. This method is successfully intro- 
duced into the United States. Paraffine 
candles have been made at some of the coal 
oil works, as at those of New York, New 
Bedford, and Portland. They are of beauti- 
ful appearance, resembling the best sperm 
candles, and at the same time are more eco- 
nomical for the amount of light they afford. 
The oil that is pressed out from the paratiine 
is useful chiefly as a lubricator, and from the 
low temperature at which it is obtained, if 
for no other reason, it is insured against 
chilling in cold weather. The residue in 
the stills, is a mixture of the tarry matters 
with the portion of the chemical ingredients 
that was introduced with the oils. For this 
no use is found. The heavy oils find their 
principal application in lubricating machin- 
ery, and large quantities are consumed for 
this purpose upon the Western railroads. 
The heavier natural oils of C)hio, when wash- 
ed clean from the sand that comes up with 
them, are also very well adapted for this 
use ; but it is found advantageous to mix 
either the crude or manufactured article 
with an equal quantity of lard oil. The 
petroleum corrects the tendency of this to 
gum and chill, while it receives additional 
body from the lard oil. Another use for 
the heavy oils is for cleansing wool in the 
woollen f^ictories, and where they have been 
tried for this purpose, they have been pre- 
ferred to other oils. In currying leather, 
also, they are said to have proved a good 
substitute for fish oil. Experiments have 
been made with them in Ohio, for mixing 
paints, and the crude heavier kinds, as those 
of Mecca, treated in the same manner as 
linseed oil, boiling them with dryers, etc., 
formed a good bod}-, covered the wood well, 
drie<l rapidly and perfectly, and formed a 
smooth, hard surface, retaining no odor. 
The great abundance of the supply of petro- 
leum at the West induced some speculation 
as to the probability of the hydrocarbon 
oils being used for fuel for steamboats, loco- 
motives, and wherever a liighly concentrated, 
portable, and manageable fuel is required. 
For domestic uses, also, such as reciuire a 
fire only a little while at a time, the coal 
oils were conveniently used in suitable stoves 
in the same manner that gas is applied to 
the same purpose. But experiments are 
wanting to estubUsh the rate per gallon at 



which it might enter into competition with 
other fuels upon a larger scale. Besides tlio 
heavy and light oils, no other valuable pro- 
ducts result from the distillation of the coal 
oils. Benzole is said not to be a product of 
this process. It belongs, together with a 
special class of hydrocarbons designated as 
the benzole series, to the tar of the gas 
works ; and if ever obtained ia the coal oil 
distillation, it was declared that it must be 
by bad management and the use of excess 
of heat. It was found, after the discovery 
and practical adoption of the petroleum as 
an illuminating fluid, that from this, by the 
refining and distilling processes, not only 
benzine but naptha and other still more vol- 
atile hydrocarbons were produced, and the 
principal difficulty in reducing the petroleum 
to a safe and non-explosive illuminator was 
to rid it of these very volatile oils. It is 
probable that they did exist in nearly the 
same form in the coal oils but had not been 
skilfully eliminated at first. 

The lighter coal oils were superior in 
many respects to most of the articles pre- 
viously used for purposes of illumination. 
Their odor, though not very agreeable, was 
better than that of most of the sperm or lard 
oils, and the spots made by spilling them on 
articles of dress or furniture were removed 
with less difficulty than those of the fatty 
oils. They were also fir less liable to ex- 
plosion than the so-called " burning fluids," 
which were previously in very general use, 
but were constantly producing terrible acci- 
dents and loss of life. They were, if burned 
in properly-constructed lamps, much less dis- 
agreeable and liable to smoke than camphene. 

But the reign of the coal oils for purposes 
of illumination was destined to be of short 
duration ; for petroleum, or as it came to be 
called when refined foi- ilium 'uating purposes, 
" kerosene oil," became -o abundant in 18(J1 
and 1862, and received such an extensive 
development, that the distillation of oil from 
coals, both for illumiuHting and lubricating 
purposes almost ceased a' ter 1 S 63. An eflTort 
was, indeed, made in 1863 and 1864 to dis- 
til these oils on a large scale from the bitu- 
minous shales of Kentucky ; but though the 
material could be had at the cost of breaking 
it up, and the process of distillation was very 
simple, the flowing wells of Western Penn- 
sylvania, and West Vir^'inia, furnished crude 
petroleum so cheaply that this undertaking 
proved unprofitable. 



PETROLEUM, OR ROCK OIL. 



IGl 



CITAPTER XTI. 
PETROLEUM, OR ROCK OIL. 

The occurrence of an oily fluid oozing in 
some regions fioni the surface of the earth, 
coining out with the springs of water, and 
forming a hiyer upon its surface, has been 
noticed from ancient times, and the oil has 
been collected by excavating pits and canals, 
antl also by sinking deep wells. l>akoo, a 
town on the west side of the Caspian Sea in 
(ieor<ria, lias lone: been celebrated for its 
springs of a very pure variety ot petroleum 
or naphtha, and the annual value of this 
product, according to M. Abich, is about 
8,000,000 francs, and might easily be made 
as large again. Over a tract about 25 miles 
long and half a mile wide, the strata, which 
are chiefly argillaceous sandstones of loose 
texture, belonging to the medial tertiary 
formation, are saturated with the oil, and 
hold it like a sponge. To collect it large 
open wells arc sunk to the depth of 16 to 
20 feet, and in these the oil gathers and is 
occasionally taken out. That obtained near 
the centre of the tract is clear, slightly yel- 
low, like Sauterne wine, and as pure as dis- 
tilled oil. Toward the margins of the tract 
the oil is more colored, tirst a yellowish 
green, then reddish brown. In the environs 
of I>akoo are hills of volcanic rocks through 
which bituminous springs flow out. Jets 
of carburctted hydrogen are common in the 
district, and salt, Avhich is almost always 
found with petroleum springs, abounds in 
the neighborhood. 

Another famous locality of natural oils is 
in Burmah, on the banks of the Irrawaddy, 



near Prome. Fifty years ago it was reported 
there were about 520 wells in this region, 
and the oil from them was used for the sup- 
ply of the whole empire and many parts of 
India. The town of llainanghong is the 
centre of the oil district, and its inhuliitants 
are chiefly employed in manufacturing earth- 
en jars for the oil, immense numbers of 
which are stacked in pyramids outside thel 
town, like .shot in an arsenal. The forma- 
tion containing the oil consists of sandy 
clays resting on sandstones and slates. The 
lowest bed reached by the oj)en wells, which 
are sometimes GO feet deep, is a pule blue 
argillaceous slate. Under this is said to be 
coal (tertiary ?) The oil drips from the 
slates into the wells, and is collected as at 
Bakoo. The annual product is variously 
stated at 412,000 hogsheads, and at 8,000,- 
000 pounds. 

The Burmese petroleum has recently been 
imported into Great Britain, and is employ- 
ed at the great candle manufactory of 
Messrs. Price & Co., at Belmont and Sher- 
wood. It is described as a semi-fluid naph- 
tha, about the consistence of goose grease, 
of a greenish brown color, and a peculiar, 
but not disagreeable odor. It is used by the 
natives, in the condition in which they ob- 
tain it, as a lamp-fuel, as a preservative oi 
timber against insects, and as a medicine. 
It is imported in hermetically closed metal- 
lic tanks, to prevent the loss of any of its 
constituents by evaporation. At the works 
it is distilled first with steam under ordinary 
pressure, and then by steam at successively 
increasing temperatures, with the following^ 
results : — 



TeiMjnorature. 
Fahr. 


Proportional 


product. 


Below 212° 


11 


2:i0'' to 293° 


10 


29.'?° to 320° 




320° to 612° 


20 


About G12° 


:u 


Above G12° 





u 



Character of product. 

Mixture of fluid liydrocarl)ons froo from paraffine. 

" " " containing a little paraffine. 

Distillate very small in quantity. 
Cotitaininjj paraffine, but still fluid at 32°. 

Product which solidifies on cooling, and may be submitted to pressure.. 
Fhiida with much paraffine. 
Pitchy matters. 
Residue of coke, and a little earthy matter in the still. 



Nearly all the parafline may be separated 
from the distillates by exposing these to 
freezing mixtures; and the total product of 
this solid hydrocarbon is estimated at 10 or 
1 1 per cent. 

Many other localities might be named 
which furnish the natural oils upon a less 
extensive scale, as in Italy, France, and Switz- 
erland. In Cuba impure varieties of bitu- 
10* 



men are met with flowing up through fissures 
in the rocks and spreading over the surface 
in a tarry incrustation, which sometimes so- 
lidifies on cooling. In the island of Trin- 
idad, three fourths of a mile back from the 
coast, is a lake called the Tar Lake, a mile 
and a half in circumference, ap]>arently filled 
with impure petroleum and asjdialtum. Ilic 
latter, more or less charged in its numerous 



162 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



cavities with liquid bitumen, forms a solid 
crust around the margin of the lake, and in 
the centre the materials appear to be in a 
liquid boiling condition. The varieties 
contain more or less oil, and methods have 
been devised of extracting this ; but the 
chief useful application of the material seems 
to be for coating the timbers of ships to 
protect them from decay. By the patent- 
ed process of Messrs. Atwood of New York, 
the crude tar of this locality having been 
twice subjected to distillation, and treated 
■with sulphuric acid and afterward with an 
alkali, as in the method of purifying the 
coal oils, is then further purified by the use 
of permanganite of soda or of potash. Be- 
ing again distilled it yields an oil of specific 
gravity 0.900, which 'is fluid at 32° F., and 
boils at 600° F. 

In the United States the existence of pe- 
troleum has long been known, and the arti- 
cle has been collected and sold for medicinal 
purposes ; chiefly for an external application, 
though sometimes administered internally. 
It was formerly procured by the Seneca In- 
dians in western New York and Pennsyl- 
vania, and was hence known as Seneca or 
Genesee oil. At various places it was rec- 
ognized along a belt of country passing 
from this portion of New York across the 
north-west part of Pennsylvania into Ohio. 
In the last-named state it was obtained in 
such quantity in the year 1819, by means 
of wells sunk for salt water, that it is a little 
remarkable the value of the material was not 
tlien appreciated, and the means perceived 
of obtaining it to any amount. The follow- 
ing description of the operations connected 
with the salt borings then in progress on 
the Little Muskingum, in the south-western 
part of the state, written in 1819, was first 
published in the American Journal of Sci- 
ence in 1826: "They have sunk two wells 
which are now more than 400 feet in depth; 
one of them affords a very strong and pure 
water, but not in great quantity. The other 
discharges such vast quantities of petroleum, 
or as it is vulgarly called, ' Seneka oil,' and 
besides is subject to such tremendous explo- 
sions of gas, as to force out all the water 
and aftbrd nothing but gas for several days, 
that tliey make but little or no salt. Never- 
theless, the petroleum aff'ords considerable 
profit, and is beginning to be in demand for 
lamps in workshops and manufactories. It 
afi'ords a clear bright light, when bunit in 
this way, and will be a valuable article for 



lighting the street lamps in the future cities 
of Ohio." Several coal-beds were penetrated 
in sinking these wells. 

In north-western Pennsylvania the exist- 
ence of oil in the soil along the valleys of 
some of the streams was known to the early 
settlers. One stream, in consequence of its 
appearance in the banks, was called Oil 
Creek. In other localities also it was no- 
ticed, and similar occurrences of oil were 
observed at some places in western Virginia 
and eastern Kentucky. At Tarentum above 
Pittsburg, oil was obtained by boring about 
the year 1845. Two springs were opened 
in boring for salt, and they have continued 
to yield small quantities of oil, sometimes a 
barrel a day. This has been used only for 
medicinal purposes. On Oil Creek two lo- 
calities were especially noted, one close to 
the northern line of Venango county, half a 
mile below the village of Titusville, and one 
14 miles further down the stream, a mile 
above its entrance into the Alleghany river. 
All the way below the upper locality through 
the narrow valley of the creek are ancient 
pits covering acres of ground, once dug and 
used for collecting oil after the method now 
practised in Asia. Cleared from the mud 
and rubbish with which they are mostly fill- 
ed, some of them are found to be supported 
at the sides w'ith logs notched at the ends as 
if done by whites, and it has been supposed 
by some that this is the work of the French 
who occupied that region the first half of the 
last century. Others think the Indians dug 
the pits, and in proof of this they cite the 
account given by Day, in his " History of 
Pennsylvania," of the use of the oil by the 
Seneca Indians as an unguent and in their 
religious worship. They mixed with it their 
paint with which they anointed themselves 
for M ar ; and on occasions of their most im- 
portant assemblages, as was graphically de- 
scribed by the C(Miimandant of Fort Du- 
quesne in a letter to General Montcalm, they 
set fire to the scum of oil which had collect- 
ed on the surface of the water, and at sight 
of the fiames gave forth triumphant shouts 
which made the hills re-echo again. In this 
ceremony the commandant thought he saw 
revived the ancient fire worship, such as was 
once practised in Bakoo, the sacred city of 
the Guebres or Fire Worshippers. 

The old maps of this portion of Pennsyl- 
vania indicate several places in Venango and 
Crawford counties where oil springs had been 
noted by the early settlers. They made some 



PETUOLEUM, OR ROCK OIL. 



1G3 



use of the oil, collecting it by sprcadirii; a 
woollen clotli upon the pools of water below 
the spriiitTs, and when tlie cloth was satu- 
rated with the oil wringinp; it out into vessels. 
The two spiinixs retVired to on Oil Creek 
furnished small (juanlities of oil as it was re- 
quired, and from a third, twelve miles below 
Titusville in the middle of the creek, the own- 
er has procured 20 barrels or more of oil in 
a vear.* In 1854 Messrs Eveleth and Bissell 
of New York purchased the upper spring, 
and le;ised mineral riglits over a portion of 
the valley. They then obtained from Prof. 
B. Silliman, jr., of New Haven a report upon 
the qualities of the oil, and in 1855 organ- 
ized a company in New York called the 
" Pennsylvania Rock Oil Company," to en- 
gage in its exploration. The same year a 
new company under the same name, formed 
in New Haven and organized under the laws 
of Connecticut, succeeded to the rights of 
the old company ; but for two years they 
made no progress in developing the re- 
sources of the property they had acquired. 
In Decemlter, 1857, they concluded an agree- 
ment with Messrs. Powditch and Drake of 
New Haven to undertake the search for oil. 
To the enterprise of Col. E. L. Drake, who 
removed to Titusville and prosecuted the 
business in the face of seiious obstacles, the 
region is indebted for the important results 
which followed. After a well had been 
sunk and curbed near the spring, ten feet 
square and sixteen feet deep, boring was 
commenced in the spring of 1859, and on 
the 26th of August, at the depth of seventy- 
one feet, the drill suddeidy sank four inches, 
and when taken out the oil rose within five 
inches of the surface. At first a small pump 
threw up about 400 gallons daily. By in- 
troducing a larger one the flow was increased 
to 1000 gallons in the same time. Though 
the pumpitig was continued by steam power 
for months no diminution was experienced 
in the flow. The success of this enterprise 
produced gieat excitement, and the lands up- 
on the creek were soon leased to parties, who 
undertook to bore for oil for a certain share 
of the product, sometimes advancing besides 
a moderate sum to the owner. 

The country was overrun by explorers for 
favorable sites for new wells, and borings 
were undertaken along the valley of the Al- 



* See a pamphlet by Thomas .\. Gale, published 
Jn Eric, Penn , 1860, entitled "Rock Oil iu Pennsyl- 
vania and elsewhere." 



leghany river, and up the French Creek 
above Franklin. The summer of 1860 wit- 
nessed unwonted activity and enterprise in 
this hitherto quiet portion of the state, where 
the population had before known no other 
pursuits thaT! fanning and lumbering. Every 
farm along the deep, narrow vallevs, sudden- 
ly aequiied an extraordinaiy value, and in 
the vicinity of the most successful wells vil- 
lages sprung up as in California during the 
gold excitement, and new branches of manu- 
facture were all at once introduced for sup- 
plying to the oil men the barrels required 
for the oil and the tools employed in boring 
the wells. From Titusville to the mouth of 
Oil Creek, about 15 miles, the derricks of the 
well borers were everywhere seen. On the 
Alleghany river the number below Tidioute 
in Warren county, south into Yenango coun- 
ty, showed that this portion of the district 
was especially pi'oductive, and the same 
might be said of the vicinity of the town 
of Franklin, both up the Alleghany river and 
French Creek. The wells had amounted to 
several hundred, or according to one pub- 
lished statement, to full 2000 in number be-' 
foi'e the close of the year, and from an esti- 
mate pniilished in the Venango Spectator, 
(Franklin) 74 of these on the 21st of No- 
vember were producing the following daily 
yield :— 

No. of wells. Prod. bbls. 

Ou Oil Creek ?,:\ 485 

'■ Upper Alleghany river, 20 442 

Franklin, .15 11^9 

Two Mile Run 3 64 

Freueh Creek 3 35 



Total 74 



.1165 



The capacity of the barrel is 40 gallons, and 
at the low estimate of only 20 cents the gal- 
l<)n the total value of the daily product is 
not far from -Si 0,000. The depth of the 
wells is iu a few instances less than 100 feet. 
The shallowest one reported, belonging to 
the Tidioute Island Oil Company, was 67 
feet deep, and its product was 80 barrels a 
day. In general the depth is from 180 to 
280 feet; one well in Franklin is 502 feet in 
depth, and one on Oil Creek 425 feet. Hie 
deepest wells are not the most productive, 
and the fiict of their being extended beyond 
the ordinary depths may generally be con- 
sidered an evidence of their failure to pro- 
duce much oil. There are exceptions, how- 
ever, to this, one of the deepest wells, that 
of Hoover and Stewart, three miles below 
[ Franklin, producing largely of excellent oil. 



164 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



The selection of localities for boring is 
very mucli a matter of chance. Proximity 
to productive wells is the first desideratum ; 
but this, when attainable, is not always at- 
tended with success. The oil does not ap- 
pear to be spread out, as the rocks lie in 
horizontal sheets, or if so there are many 
])Iaces where it does not find its way between 
the strata, and wells near together from 
which oil is pumped do not always draw 
upon each other. No doubt the system of 
crevices and pervious strata through which 
the oil flows in its subterranean currents, is 
very irregular and interrupted. The valleys 
to which the operations are limited aie nar- 
row, and are bounded on each side by hills, 
the summits of which, from 250 to 400 feet 
above the bottoms, are on the general level 
of the country. The inci-eased expense that 
would be incurred in sinking from the upper 
sui'face and in afterward raising the oil to 
this height, as also the uncertainty of find- 
ing oil elsewhere than in the valleys, have so 
far prevented the explorations being extend- 
ed beyond the creek and river bottoms ; but 
it cannot be long before the capacity of the 
broad districts between the streams to pro- 
duce oil is thoroughly tested. At present 
the most favorable sites are supposed to be 
near a break in the hills that form the mar- 
gin of the valley, as where a branch comes 
into the main stream. An experiment is al- 
. ready undertaken to test the high grounds 
west of Tidioute branch. 

As the bituminous coals are known as a 
source of hydrocarbon oils, it is natural to 
suppose that the springs of oil found near 
the coal region are fed from the coal -beds or 
bituminous shales of the coal formation. 
But it happens that only a few oil springs 
of western Pennsylvania have been struck 
in the coal-measures- themselves, and that 
some of these are sunk into the underlying 
groups of rock to reach the supplies of oil. 
The oil districts are in general outside of the 
coal-field and upon the outcrop of lower 
formations which pass beneath the coal-meas- 
ures, the whole having a general conformity 
of dip. Hence the slope of the strata is 
toward the coal, and an obstacle is thus pre- 
sented to the flow of the oil from the coal- 
field toward its margin ; and though under 
some circumstances the elastic pressui'C of 
the carburetted hydrogen gas might force 
the oil consideral)le distances from its source, 
it is hardly to be supposed that this should 
first find its wav down into lower formations 



and then be carried many miles (30 to 50) 
and find its outlet in another district, rather 
than to the surface at some nearer point. 
The strata of north-western Pennsylvania 
lie nearly horizontally, their general inclina- 
tion being toward the south. The highest 
rock upon the summits of the hills of the 
oil region is the conglomerate or pebbly 
rock (the floor of the coal-measures). Be- 
neath this are series of thin bedded sand- 
stones, slates, and shales, alternating with 
each other with frequent repetitions. The 
shales, often of an olive green color, are read- 
ily recognized as belonging to the Chemung 
and Portage groups of the New York geol- 
ogists — a formation which overspreads this 
portion of the country, extending in New 
York two thirds of tlie way towaid Lake 
Ontario and as far east as Binghamton. It 
is also continued through Ohio, crossing the 
Ohio river at Poitsmouth, and in this state 
is known as the Waverley series. Under this 
is a heavy bed of bituminous shale, 200 or 
300 feet thick, called in Ohio the black slate 
and in New York the Hamilton shales. This 
group contains an immense amount of car- 
bonaceous matter, and oil is often dissem- 
inated through it. Sometimes it runs out 
in springs and finds an outlet by the occa- 
sional fissures in the beds. Dr. J. S. New- 
berry, who has given much attention to this 
sul>ject, is of opinion that this formation 
contains sufficient carbonaceous material to 
be the source of the oil, and that the more 
porous and open shales and sandstones of 
higher formations are its reservoirs. Such 
is the geological formation of the Seneca oil 
region and of the oil springs of Canada 
West, which are the districts aftbrding this 
product most remote from the coal-field. 
But from whatever source the oil may be 
derived, its origin is at the best very ob- 
scure, and little light can be thrown upon 
the probability of the supply long enduring 
the heavy drain made upon it by hundreds 
of wells worked by powerful steam pumps. 
But though actual experience alone must 
determine the extent of the quantities of oil 
stored up and the period they will last, there 
is certainly encouragement to be drawn from 
the never-failing yield of the oil districts of 
Asia, which for centuries have poured forth 
without stint their rivers of oil. 

The sinking of wells is conducted after 
the usual method of boring artesian wells. 
After much uncertain consideration of the 
chances, a particular spot is selected, more, 



PKTROtBUM, OR ROCK OIL. 



165 



perhaps, from the hope of its being the right 
one than from any very practical grounds 
for tlie choice; but as the oil flows only in 
crevices among the strata, the location is 
frequently tletermined — other things being 
equal — by the prospect of reaching the rock 
at a few feet from the surface, and thereby 
avoiding the necessity of sinking an open well 
or driving pipes through unknown obstacles 
down to the rock. If the bed rock is found 
within ten or fifteen feet, the boring is be- 
gun at once. The derrick being raised, an 
elm, hickory, hemlock, or other elastic tim- 
ber is cut down, some 25 or ;^0 feet in length. 
The larger end is fixed in a notch of a tree, or 
heavy post planted in the ground, and another 
post is set under it at a distance from the 
but determined by the elaslicity of the tim- 
ber. The spring of the pole should be suf- 
ficient to raise the drill quickly, with its 
iron connecting rods, weighing often 300 
pounds. The rods are suspended from the 
free end of the pole by a swivel or simple 
bolt-head, turning freely around. At the 
commencement of the boring, the rods being 
very short do not weigh more, including the 
drill, than 70 or 80 pounds. Two men, 
therefore, jerk them forcibly down, to in- 
crease the momentum of the drill; the spring 
of the pole immediately raises the drill for 
the next stroke, while at each blow a man 
gives it a slight turn so that it may cut a 
round hole. Several other methods are em- 
ployed for making the pole spring ; by one, 
which is conveniently worked without em- 
ploying steam or horse power, a sort of 
double stirrup is suspended from the pole 
into which two men ])Iace each a fiot, and 
pressing the stirrup suddeidy down it imme- 
diately springs up again with the drill. This 
is much used, though some wells are sunk by 
liorse-power machinery, and some by steam 
engines of four or five horse power. 

As the well is constantly deepening, while 
the stroke of the spring-pole (about ;50 inch- 
es) remains constant, a veilical adjusting 
screw about 18 inches in length is attached 
to the end of the spring-pole ; the rope is 
clamped to the lower end or nut of this 
screw, and then extended to the pulley above. 
As the well deepens, a slight turn of the 
screw lowers the rope with the rods attached 
to it, and thus keeps the drill always free to 
fall to the bottom with an equal stroke. The 
work is continued, by a constant succession 
of strokes, to a depth of about fifty feet, 
successive lengths of iron rods being screw- 



ed on as the hole deepens — increasing the 
weight of the tools to about 300 pounds. 
The use of any additional rods is then dis- 
pensed witli, and the upper rod is suspended 
by a rope attached to the spring-pole, and 
continued above the pole around a pulley 
and windlass, used to raise the boring tools 
when it is necessary to draw them out. 
They are drawn up in this manner at inter- 
vals of an hour or two, in order to sharpen 
and temper the drill, and to make room for 
the sand ])ump. This is a thin iron tube, a 
little more than half the diameter of the hole, 
with a simple valve at the bottom opening up- 
ward. It is lowered by a cord to the bottom 
of the well, then raised up with a jerk, and suf- 
fered to drop again by its own weight. This is 
repeated quickly eight or ten times ; a whirl 
is thus produced in the water below which 
stirs up the mud and small pieces of broken 
stone ; as the tube drops, the mud and small 
stones enter the open valve and are retained 
when the tube is drawn out. 

The jarrers are employed to increase the 
force of the spring-pole when the drill hap- 
pens to be wedged in the hole by broken 
pieces of stone or by other obstructions. 
They are two rectangular links about 18 
inches in length, formed of stout bars of 
iron, and connecting the upper rods with the 
lower. When the drill descends to the bot- 
tom, the upper link, as it descends, slips 
down eight or ten inches in the lower link, 
and when the pole springs up the upper link 
has the advantage of moving through this 
space, and thereby giving a sudden upward 
jerk to the di'ill rod. The force of this up- 
ward jerk is greatly increased by a heavy rod 
introduced above the upper link, and which, 
as it moves up, lends its momentum to the 
stroke. 

The hole is carried down by three men 
at difterent rates according to the nature 
of the strata encountered, varying from a 
foot or less to six feet in a day. In the 
hard sandstones of cpiartz pebbles firmly uni- 
ted together, two or three inches sinking in 
12 hours may be all the j)rogress practicable. 
The material bro\ight uj) is carefully scanned 
for any oily appearance indicating the prox- 
imity of oil, and the well is watched to ob- 
serve if any cai-buretted hydrogen gas escapes 
from it, wiiich is considei'ed a favorable sign. 
The process of drilling in the rock is con- 
sidered by all concei'ned in boring for peti'o- 
leum, a very simple and even welcome oper- 
ation, especially when contrasted with the 



166 



MINING INDUSTRY OF THE UNITED STATES. 



uncertainties and apprehensions that sur- 
round the driving of pipes. At the outset, 
the cost of four iron pipes and hands long 
enough to reach a depth of forty feet, is 
equal to that of a complete set of boring 
tools with the rods and ropes sufficient to 
bore half a dozen wells of 300 feet each in 
depth. There is often great uncertainty of 
knowing how deep the pipes will have to be 
driven, and it is impossible to foresee the 
various obstacles through which they have 
to go. When the work has gone down suc- 
cessfully 70 or even 100 feet, the lowest pipe 
is often suddenly broken or takes an oblique 
direction. The pipes in the ground are then 
abandoned, and a new set driven in another 
place, although in several instances pipes 
reaching 60 feet in depth have been pulled 
up by a lever and axle, m ith chains or rods 
attached to a lewis wedge driven into the 
bottom pipe. 

The pipes are of cast iron, generally ten 
or twelve feet long, about live inches bore, 
and the shell full an inch thick. The lower 
end of the first pipe is notshaipeued, but 
is driven down blunt as it comes from the 
mould. The pipes are fastened together in 
the simplest manner possible, by wrought- 
iron bands, the ends being turned oil", leav- 
ing a neck somewhat larger than the inteiior 
diameter of the bands, to receive them when 
expanded by heat. 

Through common eai-th or gravel the 
pipes are forced down by the ordinary proc- 
ess of pile-driving; but when large stones 
are encountered, or round boulders as large 
as a man's head, thei'e is great risk of break- 
ing or turning the pipes. As soon, there- 
fore, as the |)ipes meet with any great resist- 
ance the driving is suspended and the drill 
is applied to break up the stone or to boi'e 
a circular hole in it, which is afterward 
reamed out as large as the interior diameter 
of the pipes. The driving is then resumed, 
and in soft shales the pipes are often forced 
on, crushing down the sides of the hole, and 
making their way through to the depth of 
12 or 15 inches in the rocky stratum. 

The cost of boring a well 200 feet deep 
is generally estimated at from llOOO to 
81500. The latter sum includes the cost 
of all the tools and materials, and also of a 
small steam engine, a large tank of pine 
plank, in which the product is collected for 
the oil and water to separate, and it also al- 
lows for such accidents and delays as are 
common to these operations. 



A\Tien the oil is struck it often rises up in 
the well, sometimes flowing over the top, and 
in several instances it has burst forth in a jet 
and played like a fountain, throwing the oil 
mixed with water high up into the air. Such 
jets have rarely lasted long, and are usually 
interrupted by discharges of gas, the elasticity 
of which drives out with violence the fluids 
mixed with it, as champagne wine is pro- 
jected from a bottle on removing the cork. 
Hundreds of barrels of oil have, however, 
been wasted at some of the wells for want 
of means to collect it or stop its flow in its 
sudden first appearance. At Williams' well, 
half a mile below Titusville, about 100 bar- 
rels of oil were collected the first night the 
oil was reached, and a large quantity besides 
was lost. A similar event occurred near 
Tidioute, the oil rushing up so violently as 
to knock over the laborer who held the dnll 
and to pass through the derrick and over 
the trees around. After a time the spouting 
wells become quiet and the oil settles down, 
so that it has to be raised by pumping. The 
pumps are contrived to work at any depth, 
and by men, or by horse power, or the steam 
engine. For a time at some of the wells 
the product has been water alone or water 
mixed with a little oil ; and after pumping 
several days this has given place to oil with 
a moderate proportion of water. If the 
pumping be suspended for a day water accu- 
mulates, and it may be several days before 
this is drawn out and the former yield of oil 
recovered. The water is geneially salt. The 
flow of oil has rai-ely if ever been known to 
fail entii'ely except by reason of some ob- 
struction in the wells, and in such cases it 
has usually returned after the hole has been 
bored out larger or made deeper. The sup- 
ply is not, however, altogether regular in 
any of the wells, even after the flow has set- 
tled down to a moderate production of 10 
or 15 barrels a day. The maximum yield 
of a well for a considerable time is about 50 
barrels a day, and from this the production 
ranges down to 4 barrels, below which it is 
considered insufficient to pay expenses. 

The oil and water are conducted from the 
pumps into the large receiving vats, and 
after the water has subsided the oil is bar- 
relled for the market. From the upper Oil 
Creek it is mostly wagoned to the Union 
Mills station in p]rie county, on the Erie and 
Sunbury railroad ; and from Tidioute to Ir- 
vine, at the mouth of the Broken Straw, on 
the same road. But most of the oil along 



PETROLEUM, OR ROCK OIL. 



167 



the Alleghany river and French Creek is 
taken by steamboats down the river to l*itts- 
biirg. New York city is at present the prin- 
cii)al market, but the country refineries are al- 
ready taking- a considerable share of the oil. 

Tiie product of the ditlerent wells varies 
somewhat in quality and value. At Frank- 
lin the oil for the niost part is heavy, mark- 
ing as low as 33*^ Baunie, which corresponds 
to specific gravity 0.8G4. Some of the wells 
furnish oils of 35° or 30"^— on Oil Creek the 
lauge is from 38° to 46°, at Tidioutc 43°. 
The French Creek oils are heavy. It is not 
unlikely that the depth of the wells may 
have some eftcct upon the cjuality of the oil, 
as from very shallow wells those of the light- 
er varieties must be likely to escape by evap- 
oratioji, leaving the heavier portions behind. 
The oils obtained at Mecca, Trumbull coun- 
ty, Ohio, are heavy oils, being thick like 
goose grease and marking 26° or 27°, which 
is equivalent to specific gravity 0.900. At 
Grafton, Lorain county, Ohio, the oil is even 
darker and thicker than this, marking about 
25° B. 

With the exception of some light, clear 
oils of reddish color, the petroleum is usu- 
ally of a greenish hue, more or less deep and 
opacpie. It has an ofiensive smell which is 
not entirely I'cmoved by the ordinary meth- 
ods of deodorizing j)ractised in the refineries. 
The process of purification is similar to that 
of the coal oil manufacture, as already de- 
scribed. The proportion of light oils sepa- 
rated by distillation varies with the crude 
petroleum employed. The largest product 
is about 90 per cent., and from this less 
amounts are obtained down to about 50 per 
cent. The properties and uses of these prod- 
ucts have idready been considered in treat- 
ing of coal oil. 

To com])lete this account of the petroleum 
of the United States more particular men- 
tion sho\ild be made of the extension of the 
district from north-western Pennsvlvania in- 
to New York on one side, and Ohio on the 
other. In Chautauqua, Cattaraugus, and Al- 
legany counties, N. Y., are many places 
where the apfieai'ace of small quantities of 
oil upon the surface, and the escape of jets 
of carburetted hydrogen, indicate the exist- 
ence of petroleum below ; and the names of 
Clean and another Oil creek, a branch of the 
Genesee river, suggest the probability of this 
proving another oil district. About a mile 
north-west from Cuba in Allegany county, 
is a pool about 20 feet across and 10 feet 



deep that lias always been called an oil 
spring, its surface being covered with a coat- 
ing of oil from which sup})lies have been ob- 
tained for medic;inal purposes. A pipe was 
sunk into this, and t)n tlic 3d of January, 1 861, 
when it had been driven down 20 or 30 feet, 
oil mixed with water suddenly gushed up 
with great force. Oil also appeai-ed on the 
water drawn up from an artesian well sunk 
to the depth of 130 feet in the same vicini- 
ty. Ari'angcments ai-e now in progi'ess for 
thoroughly testing the ca])acity of this dis- 
trict. 

In Ohio the oil-producing counties are 
Noble, Adams, F'ranklin, Medina, Lorain, 
Cuvahoffa, Trumbull, Mahoninir, and some 
others. Near Cleveland and in the valley 
of the Cuyahoga oil appears in many places, 
but it has not yet proved of much impor- 
tance. The vicinity of Mecca, Tru!!d)ull 
county, is the most productive locality. Op- 
erations were commenced there in February, 
1860, and in November it was stated that 
between 600 and 700 wells had been sunk, 
and 75 steam engines were in operation 
pumping oil. Two of the wells were yield- 
ing from 50 to 100 barrels a day each. This 
statement is probably much exaggerate<l,and 
while others report that several hundred wells 
have been sunk, a dozen or more are said to be 
working profitably. These wells pass through 
the same formation as those near Titusville, 
but for the most part they are shallow, rang- 
ing in depth from 30 to 100 feet, and the most 
of them not much exceeding 50 feet. About 
30 miles south-east from ^lecca, at Lowell- 
ville, Mahoning county, a well was sunk 157 
feet which proved very successful, yielding 
20 barrels of oil a day. This well was com- 
menced in the conglomerate and ended in 
the Chemung strata. Duck Creek, Noble 
county, was formerly noted for the oil which 
appeared with the brine of the salt wells. 

In Ritchie and Wirt counties, Virginia, near 
the Ohio river, some wells are producing oil, 
and this promises to be an important oil dis- 
trict. Canada West also contains an oil re- 
gion, extending from London toward the St. 
Clair river, from which petroleum has been 
obtained the last twelve years. On the south- 
ern coast of California petroleum is said to 
be found in considerable (luantities ; and 
springs of it are described by Captain Stans- 
l)ury in the rejiort of his expedition, in 1849, 
as occurring about 83 miles east from Salt 
Lake City, Utidi, in the vicinity of sulphur 
springs and beds of bituminous coal. 



1G8 



PETROLEUM, OU ROCK OIL. 



The fortunes maile from these oil wells in 
Pennsylvania, West Virginia, Ohio, and Can- 
ada, in 18G0, 1861, and 1862, gave rise to 
the wildest speculation, and the petroleum 
fever which set the whole country mad, for 
three or four years, deserves to be classed 
with the Morns MalticauUs speculation of 
1836-7, the Washoe Mining Mania of 18r>7, 
or the Tulip-mania, and the South Sea Bub- 
ble of John Law, in the last century. There 
was, indeed, a more solid substratum of fact 
on which to ba=e the petroleum speculation, 
the oil wa-J f jund in great quantities and over 
a wide extent of territory, and there was a 
large demand for it, both at home and abroad; 
but only a small proportion of the eleven 
hundred companies, which were formed be- 
tween 1861 and 1865. with their six hundred 
millions of dollars of nominal capital and 
actual p;iid-up capital of, perhaps, 1U5 mil- 
lions, either owned or leased lands or oil 
wells. The crafty schemers who had raised 
the commotion and excitement, preferred to 
m ike their money by the sale of stock, and 
if the proposed wells were to be bored, to let 
their successors undertake their development. 
Tiie whole community, meantime, had be- 
c ):ne infatuated ; it was ditficult to find a man 
or woman in the city or country who had 
not taken at least a small venture in what 
seemed a royal road to fortune, while in real- 
ity the chance of ever getting their money 
back was not one in a hundred. Grave 
clergymen, eminent lawyers, learned doctors, 
shrewd bankers, literary and scientific men 
of the highest cliaracter, and with them mer- 
chants, tradesmen, mechanics, farmers, and 
day-laborers, all purchased shares, and, in 
many instances invested the little savings 
reserved for old ag ^ or disaster in these very 
attractive certificates of stock. Counting up 
their prospective wealth, as prophesied in 
the glowing circulars of each new company-, 
men who h;ul never been worlh a thousand 
dollars fancied themselves millionaires, and 
looked forward to the time when they should 
set up their carriage, and live in princely 
.«tyle. It was much that the bursting of this 
bubble did not involve the whole country in 
financial disaster ; but it was really on so 
sound a basis that the great losses which fol- 
lowed, in 1866 and 1867, were borne with- 
out any serious ])anic. 

It was worthy of notice, that during the 
height of this speculalive fever, tlie produc- 
tion of the oil so far from inci easing as would 
naturally have been expected actually dimin- 



i hed,and it was only after the oil had touch- 
ed its lowest jirice that the increased and pro- 
duction has continued to do so from that 
time to the present. For several years the 
heavy internal revenue tax greatly discour- 
aged production, and the markets were glut- 
ted with the commodity so that prices ruled 
low ; but the export demand has, for several 
years past, steadily increased, while the home 
markets have each year absorbed a larger 
quantity. 

The following table shows the rapid growth 
of the export trade in petroleum; and reck- 
oning on the assumption, which the most 
extensive di^alers assure is the true one, that 
not more than forty-seven per cent, of the 
annual production is exported, exhibits also 
an approximate estimate of the annual pro- 
duct : 

Exports and estimated production of pe- 
troleum from 1862 to 1871. 



Year. 

18C2 
1S63 
1SG4 
1865 
1806 
1867 
1868 
1869 
1870 



petn.k-um 
exported. 

10,387,701 
28,250,721 
31,87i:,972 
29,072,018 



99,844,316 

97,924,545 
108,325,819 



Value of 
export. 

$1,539,027 

5,227,839 
10,782,6^9 
16,563,413 
24,830,887 
24,407,642 
21,810,670 
30,625,446 
32,101,485 



Estimated 
gallons 
produced. 

21,387,oa3 

00,i!20,532 
67,730,065 
61,778,038 



212,109,171 

208,089,653 
230,192,365 



product. 

83,270,432 
11,109,15: 
22,913,214 
35,197,252 
52,705,C3c. 
51,866,23E- 
46,347,686 
65,079,07{ 
68,215,056 



gS--^ j- 96,942,343 23,811,812 200,002,478 50,600^00 



Here, then, is an item of production, now 
exported to the extent of nearly 35 millions 
of dollars a year, and sold to the annual 
amount of 70 millions, which was not ten 
years ago, produced to the extent of $100,- 
000 ; yet this extraordinary development has 
only, to a very slight extent, supplanted the 
trade in other means of illumination and 
lubrication. The consumption of Olefiant 
gas has, as we have seen, greatly increased 
in the same decade ; whale oil, sperm oil, and 
lard oil, have somewhat declined. 

It could not, of course, have been other- 
wise than that a new business of such extent 
should have prompted a great amount of 
speculation. The aggregate losses by the 
formation of petroleum companies probably 
exceeded I'io millions of dollars. For sev- 
eral years the fluctuations in the price of crude 
and refined petroleum were very great and 
very rapid ; but speculation having ceased 
it has now settled down to a scale of prices 
which pay a fair but not exorbitant profit on 



LAND SETTLEMENT-INTERNAL TllADE. 



CHAPTER I. 

TVESTKRN SETTLEMENT AND TRADE. 

PURCHASE OF LOUISIANA POPULATION AND 

LAND SALES AVENUES TO THE VALLEY 

CANAL AND RAILROAD EXPENDITURES 

LAKE CITIES AND TRADE RECIPROCITY. 

The oricjinal colonies, settled as they were 
under difterent grants, circumstances, and 
powers, had many and conflicting claims to 
the then comparatively unknown land run- 
ning back to the Mississippi river, bounded 
on the north by the chain of lakes, and on 
the south by the Spanish territories of Flori- 
da and Louisiana, when there was a question 
of union into a confederacy. These various 
claims were a matter of dispute, which, from 
being serious, was settled by a mutual ces- 
sion of the lands to the federal government, 
in trust, for the common benefit of all the 
states then existing, or thereafter to be- 
come members of the Union. The federal 
government having thus become owner of 
the lands, the constitution conferred upon 
Congress the power "to dispose of and 
make all needful rules and regulations re- 
specting the territory and other property 
belonging to tho United States." The ob- 
vious policy of the government, like that of 
every other thrifty owner, was at once to 
attract settlers to these lands, thereby mak- 
ing them serviceable to the whole people as 
fast as possible. To do so, the lands were 
to be sold cheap, and as few formalities as 
possible placed in the way of the settlers. 
The domain was organized under the control 
of the Secretary of the Treasury, being ad- 
ministered under him by a coirmiissioner of 
the land oflBce. The whole domain is 
divided into districts, for each of which 
there is a surveyor general, under whom the 
territory is subdivided for survey into dis- 
tricts. For each district there is a land 
office, occupied by a register and a receiver. 
A plan is prepared of each district by the 
surveyors, with the utmost care, showing 



ranges, sections, and townships, with topo- 
graphic characteristics. Of this plan there 
are three copies; one is retained at the 
land office, one by the surveyor, and the 
third is sent to the general office at Wash- 
ington, where it serves to regulate all tran- 
sactions. The land being all surveyed into 
sections of 640 acres each, is offered for 
sale by the government at auction, at a 
mimmum price of $1.25 per acre. After 
the land has been on sale two weeks, it may 
be sold in 40 acre lots, at a less price. The 
actual occupant of any land offered has the 
pre-emption to it. The buyer of the land 
pays the money to the receiver, a*id gets for 
it a receipt, of which the register sends a 
duplicate, with a certificate of the sale, to 
Washington. On the verifiication of the 
sale there, the deed of the land, called a 
" patent," is made out, and sent to the local 
land office register, who gives it to the pur- 
chaser in exchange for the receipt he holds, 
and his title is then complete. In addition 
to the attractions of low prices and pre- 
emption rights, long credits were originally 
given, to enable the settler to pay for the 
land out of its proceeds. But these speed- 
ily led to abuses, and the cash plan was 
finally adopted. There have been, however, 
large grants of land for military purposes, 
to schools and universities, to states for in- 
ternal improvements, for seats of govern- 
ment, public buildings, benefit of Indians, 
salines, swamp lands, and lastly, in aid of 
canals and railroads — the construction of 
which aided the settlement of those lands at a 
distance from large water courses, and there- 
fore from markets. Some time elapsed be- 
fore the organization of the department was 
effected, and the first land office was opened 
in 1800, at Chillicothe, Ohio. The first sales 
of land, however, took place in New York 
three years before, and in that year a tri- 
angle on the lake was sold to Pennsylvania, 
in order to give her a port on the lake. That 
port is Erie, and is famous for the building 



ITO 



LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 



of Perry's fleet there in 1812, in seventy 
days fi'om the time the wood stood in the 
forest until the stars and stripes floated to 
the breeze of the lake from the mast-head. 
That fleet was fatal to British supremacy on 
the lakes. Almost all the land sales took 
place in Ohio, until 1807, when oflices were 
opened in Indiana and Mississippi. In 1809 
an oflace was opened in Alabama, and in 
1814 one in Illinois; in 1818 in Missouri, 
Louisiana, and Michigan. The sales of the 
lands proceeded with great activity in most 
of these states up to 1821, particularly 
after the embargo and war had turned 
attention from commerce and navigation to 
agriculture and manufacture. Nearly all 
the lands of the government were then in 
the great valley of the Mississippi. This is 
a vast basin, the sides of which are the 
eastern slopes of the Rocky Mountains on 
the west, and the western slopes of the Al- 
leghany Mountains on the east. The chain 
of great lakes stretches across the northern 
end of the basin, and the Mississippi river 
flows through its centre to the Gulf of Mexi- 
co, receiving on its eastern side the Illinois, 
the Ohio with its affluents, and other 
large rivers which flow generally west from 
the water-shed of the Alleghanies ; and on 
its western side the Missouri and other large 
rivers whose waters descend from the east- 
ern slopes of the Rocky Mountains. The 
only outlets to this vast basin were by the 
St. Lawrence River (not then navigable, how- 
ever) north to the ocean, and the Mississippi 
river south to the gulf. Hardy pioneers 
did penetrate across the mountains, by a 
perilous seven weeks' journey, to the Ohio ; 
but once there, intercourse was but limited 
with the east. The fertile soil was, how- 
ever, attractive, and the Indian trade profit- 
able. In 1790 the whole population west 
of the mountains was 108,868 souls, or 
about 3 per cent of the whole population of 
the Union. In 1800 that population had 
increased to nearly 400,000, but the only 
outlet for their produce was down the Mis- 
sissippi through the French territory of 
Louisiana. That circumstance led to great 
dissatisfaction, and being adroitly handled 
by the political adventurers of that day, 
threatened disunion, by dissolving the states 
east and west — the latter to form a new 
confederacy with the south-west and Mexico. 
The remedy was to purchase Louisiana. 
Fortunately, at the moment Napoleon had 
relinquished his projects of forming French 



colonies ; also being determined on war with 
England, he feared the seizure of Louisiana 
by that power, and determined to sell it to 
the United States for $14,984,872. This 
money, in 1803, gave him the sinews of war, 
and also the hope that the transaction would 
embroil the United States with his enemy. 
England did at a later period attempt to 
take the territories. But the troops who 
had driven the French out of Spain, em- 
barked from France for the enterprise only 
to encounter the bloodiest defeat before 
cotton bags and western rifles. Louisiana 
was then possessed of a certain amount of 
population and wealth, which, from being 
French, by annexation became American. A 
considerable commerce had grown up. The 
amount of trade then existing between the 
eastern and western states may be gathered 
from the official returns of exports to New 
Orleans, in the four years before it was an- 
nexed, as follows : — 

States. 1799. 1800. 1801. 1802. 
Atlantic, 3,504,092 2,035,789 1,907,998 1,224,710 
Western, 1,124,842 1,596,640 



Total, $3,504,092 2,035,789 3,032,840 2,821,350 

The exports from the Atlantic States were 
mostly foreign merchandise destined for ex- 
port up the western rivers. The exports of 
the western states were the produce sent 
down for sale. Those exports were the 
productions of hardy adventurers, whom 
circumstances had induced to seek their for- 
tunes in the west. As long as the commerce 
of the country was active, and the sales of 
the farm products of the Atlantic states 
profitable, there was less inducement to mi- 
grate west than there was after the embargo 
had wrought a change in that respect, and 
the means of communication via New Or- 
leans had improved. When that port be- 
came an American city, and the mighty 
river to its mouth an American stream, a 
new attraction was added to the fair lands 
of the valley, and in 1810 its population 
had risen to 878,315. The impulse thus 
given to western settlement was strength- 
ened by the eff"ects of war upon the Atlantic 
states. The interruption of commerce and 
stagnation of exports threw out of employ- 
ment large numbers, who now turned an 
inquiring gaze beyond the mountains. The 
capital of the east thrown out of commercial 
employment by the same circumstances, 
flowed eagerly ini banking, in the hope of 



WESTERN SETTLEMENT AND TRADE. 



Ill 



deriving large profits from the growing re- 
sources of the west; aUhough inevitable 
disaster followed the erroneous principles 
on which that banking was conducted, the 
capital, so lost to stockholders, really pro- 
moted agriculture. Instead of confining 
themselves to advances on produce shipped, 
tlie institutions loaned money to make im- 
provements and build houses that the farm 
profits could not pay for. The result was 
ruin to those accepting such advances, and 
insolvency to the banks making them. 
From 1810 to 1820 six states grew into the 
Union, while in the fifteen years that fol- 
lowed 1821 none were admitted. 

This is an instructive fact, and it indicates 
that western land speculation, so much over- 
done at those periods, was a long time 
in recovering itself. The process of forming 
new states is mostly a speculative one. The 
shrewdest operators get possession of the 
leading " sites " of future cities, and by 
stimulating and guiding the tide of migra- 
tion, become wealthy in the rise of prices that 
the tide creates around tliem. As the wealth- 
iest names of the eastern cities wer» men 
eminent in commercial enterprise, so were 
those of the western cities the earliest and 
most extensive land-holders. The political 
influence which brings the government pat- 
ronage upon the theatre of such locations, 
is a part of the machinery to guide the pop- 
ular movement. When in seasons of specu- 
lation, these operators become possessed of 
considerable tracts, a period of steady and 
healthy migration is required to distribute 
possession among settlers and clear the way 
for a new excitement. Yearly the trade grows 
by reason of the increasing surplus that the 
settlers throw off for market, and which 
being sold increases their ability to buy 
merchandise in return. 

There are no data by which to measure the 
growth of trade in those western states after 
the admission of Louisiana, up to within 
twenty years, since the accounts were kept 
only for the foreign trade, and when Louisi- 
ana became a state, reports were no longer 
made. The sales of lands, and population 
of the new states, progressed as follows, how- 
ever : — 

1790 to 1800 1800 to 1810 
Population, iucroase, 276,769 492,678 

Sales of land, acres, 1,536,152 3,008,982 

1810 to 1820 Total, 1820 

Population, increase, 1,201.248 2,079.563 

Sales of land, acres, 8,499,673 13,044,807 



So rapid had been the settlement from 
1810 to 1820. The agricultural productions 
of that region, as a matter f>f course, fol- 
lowed tliis rapid settlement of lands, and the 
exchange of those productions created a 
large trade of which there is little record. 
The mines and manufactures sprung up in 
the several towns, following the wants of the 
people. ' 

The cession of Louisiana to the United 
States had produced a dispute in relation to 
its boundaries between this country and 
Spain, which then owned Florida. This dis- 
pute became very warm in 1819, when it was 
settled through the mediation of the French 
minister, by a cession of east and west Flor- 
ida by Spain to the United States, in con- 
sideration of being released from claims for 
spoliation of American property to the extent 
of 84,985,599, whicli the United States gov- 
ernment undertook to pay its own citizens. 
The coast line of the United States thus 
became complete. There were now large 
interests west of the mountains, a population 
of over 2,000,000 souls, occupying fertile 
land, capable of any devel<ipinent, and great 
numbers were interested in the rapid appre- 
ciation of tliose lands by settlement. The 
want of communication was a great obstacle. 
It required seven weeks to reach the newly 
settled cities of the west; and when during 
the war it was necessary to send a gun from 
New York city to Buffalo for defense, it cost 
six weeks of time and $1,000 in money to 
do it. There could be little trade under 
such circumstances, and the question was 
to open communication. A canal from the 
lakes to tide water on the Hudson was 
commenced in 1817, and completed in 1825. 
This Erie canal cost $7,143,789, and soon 
paid for itself, being the most profitable, as it 
was the greatest of modern improvements. 
It opened the door for the great western val- 
ley to tide water, and by doing so wrought an 
immense change in the condition and pros- 
pects of all that region. In October, 1823, 
New York had also completed the Cham- 
plain canal, running 63 miles, from Albany 
to Lake Champlain, at a cost of 81,179,871. 
Pennsylvania, in 1825, passed an act for the 
connection of I'ittsburg, on the Oliio, with 
Philadelphia, a distance of 394 miles. This 
line was not completed until 1834. In 1828, 
a company was chartered to connect the 
Ohio with Georgetown, on the Potomac, by 
the Cliesapeake and Ohio canal. These 
works gave three outlets from the great basin 



172 



LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 



to tide water. A\1iile yet they were in pro- 
cess of construction, however, a new power 
was being developed to supersede them for 
trade and light freights. In 1828, Massa- 
chusetts had three miles of railroad ; from 
that nest-egg, capital has since hatched 28,270 
miles, which cover the country like a net- 
work. The opening of the Erie canal was 
attended with great results, since it placed 
the produce of western lands cheaply in com- 
petition with that of the valley of the Hud- 
son, and of the less productive states of the 
Atlantic coast. Commerce and manufactures 
increased, for the reason that agriculture paid 
less. The supply of labor changed direction, 
and the increasing numbers in manufacturing 
employments drew their subsistence from the 
west. The natural water courses that dis- 
charged themselves into the lakes were lined 
with settlers, and soon Ohio connected the 
lakes with the Ohio river, by a canal from 
Cleveland to Cincinnati, and also to Ports- 
mouth. Indiana projected a canal from 
Toledo, on the lakes, to the Ohio river, cut- 
ting the state nearly longitudinally; and 
Illinois projected one from Chicago to the 
navigable waters of the Illinois river, thus 
connecting the lakes with the Mississippi 
river, nearly opposite the old French town 
of St. Louis — across the state. These works 
were not completed, some of them, until tea 
or fifteen years after they were undertaken. 
That of Ohio, however, gave a new impulse 
to trade, not only by Cleveland, on the lakes, 
but by way of Cincinnati, down the river to 
New Orl(!ans. These circumstances gave a 
new impulse to the sales of land and the 
settlement of the west. The expenditure of 
money for the construction of canals, and by 
the federal governtnent for the construction 
of the great national road running west from 
the seat of government to the Mississippi, 
inaugurated the speculative movement in 
that direction. The bank fever then raged 
once more in support of the land move- 
ment, as it had done in the six years end- 
ing with 1820, and with the same results. 
$200,000,000 of money went from east to 
west, feeding the flame, until all real capital 
was nearly consumed, and the speculation 
ran wild until it barst in 1837. At that 
time a large quantity of land had passed, 
under the credit sales of the federal govern- 
ment, into the hands of private speculators, 
and the western fever lay dormant up to the 
revival that it experienced in 1846-7, by 
reason of the famine abroad, and the growing 



strength of the migration. Attention was 
then again turned to the lands, and the rail- 
road expenditure began to exert the same 
influence that canal and bank expenditure 
had exercised in 1836, and the movement 
was progressive until the revulsion of 1857. 

The natural water courses of the country 
had been followed by early migrations, and 
the settlement of the land bordering them 
had been stimulated by the bank paper 
speculation of 1810 to 1820. Following the 
excitement came the construction of the 
artificial means of navigation, involving an 
expenditure of some 150,000,000 for canals 
through new lands opened up by their opera- 
tion ; and these enterprises were again at- 
tended with a great bank expansion, that, 
although ending disastrously, nevertheless 
had the efi'ect of drawing capital from Eng- 
land and the wealthier Atlantic states to 
spread it upon the fertile lands of the west. 
The subsidence of that speculation left the 
west in comparative quiet, although of gene- 
ral progress, for some years, during which a 
new and more powerful element of internal 
development was coming into action. This 
was the railroad system. 

The first railroad of the country was three 
miles, built in Quincy, Massachusetts, and in 
operation in 1828, about the time the suc- 
cess of the Manchester railroad in England 
astonished the world with the new phenom- 
ena of locomotion. The example was not 
slow of imitation in this country; and the 
Boston and Providence railroad, uniting those 
cities by forty miles of rail, to connect with 
the steamboats to New York, was soon in 
operation. Its success caused other works to 
be undertaken in New England, and when 
the Western road was projected, to con- 
nect Albany with Boston, it gave the city a 
direct connection with the Hudson river and 
the Erie canal. New York projected the Har- 
lem railroad ; and from Albany several roads 
extended west, connecting city after city, 
until the united lengths of 380 miles made a 
continuous route to Buffalo — afterward, in 
1850, consolidated in the New York Central 
railroad. Another road — the Erie — to con- 
nect New York with Lake Erie at Dunkirk 
(459 miles), through the lower tier of coun- 
ties, was commenced in 1842 and completed 
in 1853. Baltimore projected the connection 
with Wheeling, on the Ohio, 380 miles, by 
rail, and Philadelphia connected Pittsburg, on 
the Ohio, 329 miles, by a line of works which 
became subsequently a continuous railway. 




;a\v mills. 



WESTERN SETTLEMENT AND TRADE, 



173 



The New York railroads were not allowed 
by law to carry fri'i>;Iit until 1850, except on 
payment of the caiuil tolls. These four routes 
opened the western valley by rail to tide 
water. The Canada roads, connecting De- 
troit and Buffalo, and Detroit and Portland, 
make five routes, with distances as follows : — 

N. York to Chicago, via Ene, Lake Shore, aud 

Mich. Soulhern, 957 

N. York to Chicago, via Central, Canada, and 

Mich. Central, 957 

Philadelphia to Chicago, via Pittsburg and 

Fort Wayne, 823 

Baltimore to Chicago, via Ohio Central, - 942 
Portland to " " Canada and Michigan 

Central, 1,133 

There had been, meanwhile, many western 
roads built in important localities, which had 
much favored the export of food in answer 
to the forcii^n demand growing out of the 
famine of 1846-7. In the year 1850, the 
federal government made a grant of land of 
about 2,500,000 acres to the state of Illinois, 
in aid of the construction of the Central 
railroad, which was to connect Galena, on 
the Mississippi, and Chicago, on the lake, 
with Cairo, at the junction of the Ohio and 
Mississippi rivers. The two roads leaving 
respectively Galena and Chicago, run south, 
converging until they meet at a point 50 
miles from Cairo, and thence proceed to- 
gether. The state not being able to do this 
herself, made over the lands to a company, 
on condition that they should construct the 
road. This was commenced in 1852, and 
finished in 1857, at a cost of ^35,000,000. 
The tract given by the government was in 
size equal to the whole state of Connecticut, 
and was a part of 11,000,000 acres that had 
been over fifteen years in the market without 
findmg buyers. The fact that the railroad was 
to run through them, and spend $25,000,000, 
and employ 10,000 men in the building of 
the road, made the lands attractive, and ex- 
cited speculation. At about the same time 
the state of Michigan sold the Michigan Cen- 
tral road and the Southern Michigan road to 
two companies, on the condition of their 
finishmg them, which was done in 1852, 
establishing a connection between Detroit 
and Chicago. About the same time the Gale- 
na and Chicago railroad was commenced and 
finished in 1850, making a direct communi- 
cation from the river at Galena to Chicago, 
prolonged by the Michigan roads to Detroit, 
and thence by the Lake Shore to New York, 
by the Erie or the Central railroads, or via 



the Canada route to Portland or to Boston. 
Subsequent connections have been made with 
the Pennsylvania and the Baltimore roads ; 
and the western connections of Chicago and 
Milwaukee have been pushed under a vast ex- 
penditure of money. 'J'hc inauguration of 
land grants by government, in the case of 
the Illinois Central, has been followed by 
grants to other states f(jr the same object, 
until all the grants amount to 25,403,993 
acres. These grants have rapidly developed 
southern connections, until the route is now 
complete between Chicago and New Orleans, 
shortening the river route by over 400 miles. 
While these " trunk lines" were in process 
of construction, cross roads were multiplied 
to an immense extent, and the connections 
of them form a continuous route from Bangor, 
Maine, to New Orleans, 1,996 miles. This 
vast chain of railways is composed of eigh- 
teen independent roads, costing in the aggre- 
gate, for 2,394 miles of road, 192,784,084, 
or nearly one-twenty-fourth of the whole 
railway system of the United States. 

The progress of the construction by miles 
in each locality has been as follows, in 
periods of ten years : — 

EMt'ra. Middle. South'rn. Weit'rn. ToUl Miles. Cost. 

1828 3 3 221,101 

1S30.... 8 83 6 « 43 3,50}, 100 

1840... 444 1,436 461 28 2,369 9S.1TO.001 

1850.... 2,896 2,925 1,415 1,041 7,77T 291,482,101 

I860.... 3,824 8,176 5,552 10,718 28,270 11,009.172,000 

.870. ...4,274 10,791 11,132 22,004 43 h61 2,212,412,719 

A vast sum of money, amounting in all to 
$1 ,203.240,7 19, has been expended in the last 
ten years in the construction of 20,591 miles of 
road, of which rather more than one-half has 
been built at the west. There are, in addi- 
tion to these roads, some 28,000 miles of 
road incomplete. A considerable amount 
of this money was drawn from abroad. The 
iron was got in exchange for bonds, which 
have not in all cases been paid ; but if the 
bonds were poor, the iron has not been of 
good quality. The quantity of railroad iron 
imported in ten years, to 1850, was 242,449 
tons, at a cost of'^$9,603,/J87. In the twenty 
years ending with 1^69, the quantity im- 
ported was 3,519,896 ton.s, at a cost of 
$281,591,680. This number of tons sutfices 
for about 30,000 miles of roail,at701bs. to the 
yard. The money expended upon the roads 
in the employment of men and in the manu- 
facture of superstructure, rolling stock, etc., 
of itself caused an immense activity and de- 
mand for produce, which, as a matter of 
course, became scarce and high upon the 
theatre of such expenditure. The manufao- 



174 



LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 



ture of superstructure, cars, locomotives, sta- 
tions, etc., were the means of employing 
great numbers of men. The railroad iron, 
of which the manufacture requires the in- 
vestment of much capital, was alone import- 
ed to any great extent. The remaining por- 
tions of the railroads were manufactured at 
home. The first locomotives in the United 
States were imported from England in the 
fall of 1829 or spring of 1830. The first 
Stephenson locomotive ever imported was 
the "Robert Fulton," in 1831, for the Mo- 
hawk and Hudson railroad. The first loco- 
motive built in this country was constructed 
at the West Point foundry in 1830, for the 
South Carolina railroad. Since then the im- 
provement and manufacture of railroads has 
been so successful as to admit of the export 
of many American machines. As the roads 
were completed, and the hands, numbering 
at least 200,000 men so employed, were dis- 
charged, they naturally turned their atten- 
tion to the agriculture of the neighborhood 
where they had been employed, and produc- 
tion thus succeeded to consumption. The 
effect of the railroad expenditure upon the 
grain crops is to some extent indicated in 
the following table of miles of roads in oper- 
ation in the western states at the periods 
named, and the population and corn product 
of those states : — 

I860. Miles 

of Koad. 

Ohio 299 

Indiana 86 

Illinois 22 

Iowa 

Michigan 344 

Wisconsin .... 
Missouri 

751 
1870. 

Ohio 3,724 

Indiana 2,977 

Illinois 4,708 

Iowa 2,141 

Michigan 1,200 

Wisconsin 1,491 

Missouri 1,827 



the cost of the railroads built, extracted each 
year from the soil through their influence. 
We may now observe what had been the 
actual sales of the public lands by the govern- 
ment in the forty years ending with 1860, 
to June 30th, when the fiscal year ends, 
divided into periods of ten years each ; the 
first, being that of recovery from the specu- 
lation that attended the close of the war; 
the second, embracing the period of bank 
and canal building excitement ; the third, 
that of recovery from that excitement ; and 
the fourth, that of the last great railroad 
building excitement. The quantity sold 
during the fifty years was, it appears, 160,- 
588,005 acres, besides about L'8 6,000,0(10 
acres granted to agricultural colleges, rail- 
roads, homesteads, military service, «S:c. 

ANNUAL SALES OP LAND BY THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT. 



Population. 


Bushels 
of Corn. 


1,980.329 


59,07 8,695 


982,405 


52,964,363 


851,470 


57,646,984 


192,214 


8,656,799 


397,054 


5,641,420 


305,391 


1,988,379 


682,044 


36,214,537 


5,391,507 


222,191,177 


2,f575,468 


65,250,005 


1,668,169 


73,000,000 


2,567,036 


121,500,000 


1,181,359 


78,500,0011 


1 184,653 


14,100 OO't 


1,055,501 


9,500,000 


1,725,658 


80,500,000 


12,051,844 


445,350,005 


6,666,337 


223,158,828 



Total 18,063 

Increase.... 17,317 

The corn crops had more than doubled, and 
the wheat crop in the same states had risen 
from 43.840,637 to 143,500,000 bushels in 
] ,S70 — an increaseof 100,000,000 perannum, 
worth as many dollars ; and estimating the 
corn at the same aggregate, there had been 
a sum of ^320,000,000 per annum, or a third 





Acres. 




Acres. 




Acres. 


1821, 


822,185 


1831, 


2,804,745 


1841, 


1,164,796 


1h22, 


76.3,811 


18.32, 


2,411, 9o2 


1842, 


1,129,217 


1823, 


63s,749 


1833, 


3,8.-)6,227 


1843, 


1,605,264 


1824, 


723,038 


1834, 


4,6.58,218 


1844, 


1,7.54,763 


1825, 


871,019 


1835, 


12,564,478 


1845, 


1,S43,527 


1826, 


839,263 


1836, 


20,074,870 


1846, 


2,2^^3,7.30 


1827, 


90.i,937 


1837, 


6,601,103 


184r, 


2,.521,305 


1828, 


94f5,(i50 


1838, 


3,414,907 


1848, 


1,887,553 


182f), 


1,230,445 


1839, 


4,976,382 


1849, 


1,3:9,902 


1830, 


1,880,019 


1840, 


2,236,889 


1850, 


769,364 


Total, 


9,627,716 




62,.599,771 




16,'269,421 


Pop. . 


.2,233,880 




8,707,299 




10,454,245 


1851, 


1,846,847 


1861, 






1852, 


l,5r.3,071 


1862, 






18.^3, 


1,083,495 


1863, 


\ 


9,109,075 


18.54, 


7,0.35 


735 


1864, 






1855, 


15,729 


524 


1865, 


\ 




1856, 


9,227 


878 


1766, 




4,6C9,313 


1857, 


4,142 


744 


1867, 




7,041,114 


1-.58, 


3,S04,yi)8 


1868, 




6,t'5.',743 


1859, 


3,9)1 


580 


1869, 




7,6f;6,152 


lS6l», 


4,O00,0j0 


1870, 




8,095,413 


Total 


52,"'85 


782 






43,195,810 


i'op'a 


15,0(51,894 






17,217,610 



The total sales of land, from the opening 
of the land offices to 1870, hicluding grants 
under the homestead laws, were 176,488,736 
acres. Tliere have been issued land warrants 
to soldiers, which have taken up large por- 
tions of the land. These warrants are for 1 60 
acres, 120 acres, 80 acres, and 40 acres, and 
have l;)een sold in the markets at$l \yev acre 
for the smaller lots, and about 80 cts. the 
larger warrants, by which means the lands 
come less to the buyer. In addition to the 
lands sold, the government has donated 69,- 
066,802 acres to schools ; 6,851,989 acres to 
agricultural colleges; 44.971 to deaf and 
dumb asylums; 1*2,403,054 to internal im- 
provements; 2,240,184 to individuals; 146,- 
860 to seats of government; 61,076,922 to 
military services; 514,585 salines to states; 



h-; 





p?f 



J 



WESTERN SETTLEMENT AND TRADE. 



175 



13,980,700 Indian reserves; 17,645,244 pri- 
vate claims; 47,87'), 246 swamp lands, granted 
to states ; 27,4')3,/)22 to railroa<ls, etc. ; re- 
served for individuals, companies, and corpor- 
ations, 8,l)r)r),3i)4 acres; and there remain 
unsold lands on hand, the tritle of 1,396,- 
286.164 acres. 

The population of the land states had in- 
creased, it appears, from 2,233.880 iu 1830, 
to 17,217,610 in 1870, during which period 
of forty years, 174,451,784 acres of land 
were sold by the Government. These 
land sales and population are the ground 
work of the national trade, which grows with 
the surplus produced hy the land settlers. 
Those people at first make few purchases of 
goods, but increase them as their surplus 
produce sells and enables them to do so. 

The people who seek new lands on which 
to rear their future homes and fortunes, are, 
for the most part, not possessed of much 
capital, and under ordinary circumstances 
much is required for a family to perform a 
distant journey, locate and prepare land and 
wait until the crops are grown. Neverthe- 
less, pioneers have ceaselessly pushed for- 
Avard into the wilderness and battled with 
nature in the sliape of forests, animals and 
savages, until twenty new states and millions 
of wealth have been added to the Union. 
The great instrument of this progress, has, 
under Providence, and in the hands of skil- 
ful and determined men, been ln:lian corn. 
That grain has been the poor man's capital, 
enabling him to conquer the wilderness. It 
needed on his locating his future home but 
to drop the seed in the fertile soil, and 
while he busied himself with his new dwel- 
ling, a sure crop grew up, which iu a few 
months became food for his family and his 
animals. The husks furnish his bed and 
the cobs his fuel. lie is thus by the gift of 
nature furnished with capital for the coming 
year, until his other crops and young ani- 
mals have grown. Indian corn has thus 
given the pioneer a hold upon the land and 
made his footing firm where otherwise he 
might have been compelled to succumb to 
hardships. With every such remove on to new 
land the circle of trade has increased. A 
few months onlj' suffice for the settler to 
furnish a surplus of production in return for 
comforts that he desires. For this reason 
cliietly corn figures so largely in the agricul- 
ture of the west. The prolific soil throws 
out quantities far beyond the wants of the 
planter, and in a region where all are j)lant- 



ers, the supply becomes superabundant and 
must find distant markets only at rates so 
low as to leave little to the grower. Two 
local demands are created for it. The most 
important of them is to feed hogs, and pork 
becomes a leading staple export ; the other 
is for distillation, and whiskey is largely 
exported. The quantity of corn required 
to make a certain quantity of pork becomes 
accurately known, and the price of meat 
rises and falls with that of the grain, as does 
whiskey also. Thus out of the great staple 
grain Indian-corn come directly the three 
great articles of export, corn, pork and its 
manufacture, and wiiiskey. Lumber in most 
new countries is also an important export, 
As the settlements progress, beef, wool, 
wheat and other grains, soon follow, and 
trade increases. "VVhile Indian corn has been 
largely the instrument of settlement at the 
West, the nature of the country and the 
fertility of machine inventions have been no 
less necessary in securing a surplus for sale. 
If the corn grows readily it could not under 
the old system be so readily harvested in a 
region where land belonged to every man, 
and every man's labor could be applied only to 
his own service. At the same time no 
man's labor more than suffices for the Avants 
of his own fiunily. Here machinery steps 
in, and favored by the level nature of the 
soil operates to a charm. A man who could 
with the scythe cut from one to one and a half 
acres of grass per day, may ride round a 
field and cut ten acres in a day without 
fatigue. Instead of a gang to rake and turn 
and cock, his horse and himself may with a 
patent rake perform all that labor and more 
eftectually Avhen driven by a shower of rain, 
than any gang. His grain is cut by the 
same means and light labor as his grass. It 
is threshed out by a similar process ; his 
corn is husked and shelled by machines ; 
and when drawn to the railroad depi:)ts it is 
elevated into vast receptacles to be trans- 
ported rapidly and at small cost to the best 
market. All these machine aids enable 
the man whose own labor would scarcely 
supply the demands of his family to turn 
out a vast surplus. This surplus seeks the 
river and lake cities by rail, canal, and steam, 
to be transported to the Atlantic markets 
for consumption or export, or may now leave 
Chicago and Milwaukee on the lakes, or St. 
Louis and Cincinnati on the rivers for Liver- 
pool direct without breaking bulk. The 
table of land sales above gives a very good 



170 



LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 



indication of the accumulating force behind 
the forwarding cities to push forward the 
trade. As every bushel of grain they receive 
requires an equivalent from them in goods, 
each grows under the double demand. 
Their combined growth is the basis of lake 
and river trade, distributing the produce for 
consumption, and bearing back goods in 
return, while the foreign commerce of the 
country grows with the aggregate surplus 
to be exported and the consequent increase 
of the merchandise received in exchange. 
Ilaving glanced at the settlement of the 
western lands, it becomes no matter of sur- 
prise that the cities which were the focus at 
which such large quantities of surplus pro- 
ducts concentrated grew rapidly, and grew 
in proportion to the rapidity of settlement 
and the perfection of the means of internal 
communication. It may be worth while to 
sketch the leading ones, first those of the 
lakes. 

Buffalo, on Lake Erie, was laid out 
originally in 1801, but was of small import- 
ance until in 1825 by the opening of the 
Erie canal, it became the gateway from the 
great valley to the Atlantic states. Its 
population was then 3,000. As the " great 
valley " at that time had, however, but little 
to spare, the importance of Buffalo was to 
swell with the growth of the west which 
was rapid indeed. In 1832, thirty-one years 
from its settlement, Buffalo became a city 
with 8,053 inhabitants. In the twenty-eight 
years that have since elapsed the population 
has risen to 117,715. In 1825, the tonnage 
belonging to the port was 200 tons. It has 
grown to 87,243, valued at $5.5.88,175, be- 
sides 474 canal boats. The steam tonnage 
running to Buffalo is 53,147 tons. The 
exports of Buffalo by canal are $54,000,000 
and by railroad considerably more. The open- 
ing of Dunkirk to New York over the Erie 
road created a rival to Buffalo, and the 
Welland canal round the falls permitted 
vessels to go to Oswego, where they take 
either canal or railroad on a shorter route to 
New York, also rivaling Buffalo. It is obvious 
that a few miles longer trip adds little to 
the cost of a loaded ship, and by reducing 
the canal and railroad transportation the 
cost is diminished. Hence Oswego has an 
advantage over Buffalo. 

The imports into Buffalo by lake and rail- 
road, showing the relative and aggregate val- 
ues, indicate the gain of "rails" over "sails." 
They were, for a number of years, as follows : 



Lake. 

1850, $22,525,781 

1851, 31,889,951 

1852, 34,943,855 

1853, 36,881,230 

1854, 42,030,931 

1855, 50,346,819 

1856, 42,084,079 

1857, 36,913,166 
1870, 87,419,381 



Kail road. 



2,234,273 

6,397,923 
10,968,384 
16,422,505 
15,020,580 
95,183,721 



Total. 

$22,525,781 
31,889,951 
34,943,855 
39,115,50.3 
48,428,854 
61,313,203 
59,106,584 
51.933,746 

182,602,102 



Oswego, settled in 1820 on Lake Ontario 
has been mostly the creation of the Oswego 
canal and of the railroad communication since 
established, which makes its position on the 
lake with reference to the Canada and lake 
trade very desirable. The canal was com- 
pleted in 1828, and the Oswego and Syra- 
cuse railroad in 1848, when Oswego, having 
10,305 inhabitants, was incorporated as a 
city. The modification of the English colo- 
nial trade system, and the admission by the 
United States of goods in bond under the ware- 
house system, laid the foundation for a great 
development of the business of Oswego on the 
occasion of the famine of 1847, when the 
trade of the place took a sudden start, which 
it has since sustained. The AVelland canal, 
connecting Lakes Erie and Ontario, gave 
Oswego a line of communication with the 
west, by which freight coming thence to the 
east, would have, via Oswego, less canal navi- 
gation than by other routes. In May, 1857, 
the Welland railway, running along the banks 
of the canal, was projected, and completed 
in 1860, thus giving a communication all the 
year round. By these means Oswego draws 
its supplies from every western state. The 
imports from Canada in 1870 were $7,399,- 
035, and the exports $1,043,200; the ton- 
nage of the port amounts to 17,833 tons ex- 
clusive of 772 canal-boats, measuring 84,411 
tons. Pop. in 18(',0, 20.910. 

Cleveland. — The place Avas settled by 
one family in 1799, but its population did 
not increase beyond 500 in 1825, when the 
Erie canal was opened. Its greatest impulse 
was derived from the construction of the 
Ohio canal, connecting it with Cincinnati, 
the I'ennsylvania and Ohio canal, connecting 
it with Pittsburg, and the Welland canal 
in Canada, connecting Lake Erie Avith Lake 
Ontario. Since that event a considerable 
Canadian trade has sprung up in Cleveland. 
The canals of Ohio brought down the in- 
creasing quantities of produce that were then 
exported in exchange for the merchandise 
that was delivered by lake for the consump- 
tion of the interior. In 1832 there were 26 
sail vessels and one steamer belonging to 



WESTERN SETTLEMENT AND TRADE. 



177 



C'levehind ; tlicic ;iri' now 49 steamers and 
iii)G Siiil vessels, with an aii'^re^ate tonnage of 
54,474 tons owned there. Th(! multiplica- 
tion of railroads has. however, added of late 
more to the city business than either canals 
or tonnage. There are twelve roads running 
into Cleveland, of an aggregate length of 
1,023 miles, and their annual receipts are 
more than 25 million dollars. These cross- 
ing Ohio in every direction, connect the city 
with Toledo, Columbus, Pittsburg, and New 
York. With these advantages, and an active 
commerce with Canada, a large foreign trade 
sprung up. In 1870 the imports and exports 
were as follows : 

Vcs.'Jels. Tons. CoR-stwiso. ■ Foroifrn, Total. 

Exports. ..1,060 302,170 $70,187 ,aoo S.3i).-.,1>03 §76,782,593 
Imports... 940 288,110 108,2-19,801 6tJU,US4 108,819,840 

The trade betvreen Cleveland and Lake 
Superior has also become important witliin 
fifteen years, in which time it has risen to 
more than $20.(H»(),()U0, mostly in iron and 
cojiper ore. In 1856-1^61, Cleveland had, in 
common with several of the other lake ports, 
a growing and flourishing direct trade with 
Europe through the Welland canal. Ten 
vessels, of 3<)0 or 400 tons, ran regularly for 
some time between Cleveland and Liverpool. 
Owing to the war and the un))rofitableness 
of this trade, it has now very nuK-h declined, 
but the city has become largely interested 
manufactures, having over SI 6,000.000 cap- 
ital invested in them, with an annual product 
of nearly $50,000,000. The coal trade of 
Cleveland has become large for the supply 
of the steamers and fixctories on and around 
the lakes ; the supply is about 700,000 tons 
per annum. Population in 1870, 93,918. 

Detroit. — This is the oldest of the west- 
ern cities, having been early occupied by 
the French, but its progress, like the others, 
was slow until the opening of the Erie canal. 
In 137 years, up to 1820, the population 
had risen only to 1,442 souls. The greatest 
impulse has been given to Detroit by 
the formation, in the last ten years, of 
the railroad system, which connects it with 
the interior country. The G'cat Western 
Kailway of Canad;i, coming 2'J9 miles, has 
its terminus virtually in Detroit. From De- 
troit west run the Michiijan Central road, 
228 miles, to Chiaigo, and cormecting with 
the whole western net-work of rails ; the 
Detroit and Milwaukee railroad, crossing the 
Peninsula, 185 miles, to Grand Haven; 
the Michigan Southern road running also to 
11* 



Chicago, a road to Lansing, and other smaller 
roads, in all extending about 1,120 miles. 
Population in 1870, 79,588. 

Chicago is the most remarkable of the 
western cities for its growth. Its location 
was good, at the southern extremity of the 
lake, but though it had a fine harbor sufficient 
for any lake trade, it could not thrive until 
the back country supplied it with produce to 
sell, and requinnl of it merchandise in ex- 
change. Though occupied as a garrison in 
1812, and a trading port in 1823. it had Ic^s 
than fifty inhabitants till 1832. The Illinois 
and Michigan canal, connecting the lake with 
the navigable waters of the Illinois, was com- 
menced in 1830, 100 miles in length. In aid 
of this work the federal government donated 
alternate six mile sections of the public lands. 
The state had also projected a large system 
of railroad improvements on a scale far be- 
yond its means, and it failed in 1840. Sub- 
sequently the means was raised to com]ilete 
the canal, which was effected in 1850. The 
yearly arrivals and clearances of vessels in 
the port are little more than six million tons. 
In 1870, there were 15 trunk and about 50 
other railroads with an aggregate mileage of 
over 9,000 miles radiating from Chicago as 
their common centre. The expenditure of 
about $450,000,000 in the construction ( f 
these roads, and the great development of 
the country through which they pass has 
made the growth of Chicago rapid beyond 
all precedent. The vast grain, live, stock, lum- 
ber and mining products jioured into it have 
made it a great commercial city, even beyond 
what its population would incUcate. Over 
the 9.000 miles of railroad, most of it trav- 
ersing the finest grain country in the world, 
the cereals have come in such quantities as 
to make Chicago the first primary grain port 
in the world, shipping as it does about GO 
million bushels of grain per annum, import- 
ing and exporting to the amount of $250,- 
000,000. Chicago is only six or eight feet 
above the level of the lake, but the harbor 
has a depth of thirteen feet of water, and will 
always be ample for the commerce of the 
lakes. The number of vessels arriving here 
in 1870 was 12,739. The new Canadian 
rules in relation to navigation enable Chicago 
vessels to clear direct for Europe, and there 
are a number in the trad(! by which produce 
and goo<ls are shipped direct to Europe. 
The total value of pro.luce exported in 
1870 was $5,034,330. Inasmuch as bread- 
stuffs are the principal product of the 



178 



LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 



the commerce of the place, the following ta- 
ble will best illustrate as well the development 
of agriculture as the chief element of trade : 

SHIPMENTS OP FLOUR (REDnCED TO WnBAT) AND GRAIN FROM 
CHICAGO FOR TUIBTY-TUREK YEAR3. 

Bushels. 

31,108,759 
5U, 48 1,862 
56,477,110 
54,287,345 
46,718,543 
52,268.181 
65,486,323 
55,187,909 
63,688,358 
56,759,515 
54,745,903 

The following are the shipments of pork, 
provision, and cut meats, lard, beef, wool, 
and lumber, for ten years — 1861-1870 : 





Bushels. 




Bushels. 




1838, 


78 


1819, 


2,769,111 


1860, 


1839, 


3,678 


1850, 


1,830,930 


1861, 


1840, 


10,000 


1851, 


4,646,291 


1S62, 


1841, 


40,000 


1852, 


5,873,141 


1863, 


1842, 


58i5,ai7 


1853, 


6,412,181 


1864, 


1843, 


6SS,9i)7 


1854, 


12,932,320 


1865, 


1844, 


9_3,494 


1855, 


16,633,700 


1866, 


1845, 


1,024,620 


1S56, 


21,583,221 


1867, 


1846, 


1,599.819 


1857, 


18,032,678 


1868, 


1847, 


2,243,201 


1858, 


20,oa5,166 


1869, 


1848, 


3,001,740 


1859, 


16,753,795 


1870, 



Toftr. 


Pork. 


ProTiaions and 


LarJ. 


Bfff. 


■Wool. 


Lumber. 


Bnrrels. 


I'oundB. 


Pounds. 


Barrela. 


Pouudi. 


F.et. 


l«fil, 


G-MJlfi 


,W.748.'W8 


]B,400,S22 


50,1.54 


l..S60,BI7 


1R9,.'!79,44S 


IKK,!, 


litt.'.IJO 


ri,!H4,lM0 


54,.5( 15,1 2.1 


151, (HI 


2,101,521 


1M),277,079 


!.«■(, 


44'.l.l.'i2 


a\n(«i,8i.5 


5H,o:io,":8 


1S7,.S02 


.•i.4".'-),0.-i6 


•2-2i.7m,s:m 


IWU, 


2iW,-'.5() 


.')(l,(I.Vi,:t.':i 


42,34-2,970 


14(l.<i27 


7.VH,.'!79 


2C0.4:ni,579 


ISIti, 


•-'.s^.-;;4 


.II.O.'H.filW 


2H,4H7 407 


l(i.!,(;iM 


!i ;ij:l.oi;9 


a«.:i.W.078 


l.-«!(i. 


1-57,471) 


7.1,01 1,SH4 


26.758,aiW 


«(,7li; 


i2,.«i:,:wj 


422,;:i'i,2«j 


is<;/, 


17i;.s.il 


SV^-25..U2 


27,211,225 


84,022 


11,2;)VI7 


518.97.i..<!54 


INW, 


I41..i.'l 


95,106,101 


li;3,527,H2l 


75,424 


K!. 101, 102 


551,989,806 


IWW, 


1 :;!,(;•■« 


m,707.«)G 


17,278,S-.'0 


4«fi24 


H,27:i,924 


581„»%480 
5)3,400,634 


1870, 


1W,!55 


lUi,433,lU8 


43,292,249 


65,a«y 


15,«JG,506 



Milwaukee is one of the chief cities of 
the western shore of Lake Michigan. It 
was settled in 1834, and up to 1840 could 
boast of but 1,700 inhabitants. The popu- 
lation had grown to nearly 20,000 in 1850, 
to 30,000 in 1853, and to 71,499 in 1870. 
The growth has been most rapid under the 
settlement of the country west of it, by 
means of the large expenditures there made 
in the last fourteen years for railroads. These 
in the state of Wisconsin, have an aggregate 
length of 2,779 miles, and have been con- 
structed mostly in the last tifteen years at an 
expense of $60,358,723. The expenditure 
of this large sum of money, in addition to 
that l;iid out by speculators and emigrants, 
imparted an impulse to the prosperity of the 
city which is retiected in its population and 
valuation. The circle of fertile country 
poured into the city products which were 
exported from it to the value of $35,890,288 
in 1870, and in return $59,180,000 worth 
of goods was imported. The manufactures 
of the city were also valued at $23,100,000. 
The quantity of grain sliip})ed from Milwau- 
kee in 1870 was 28.645,000 bushels, and 
from other lake ports of Wisconsin 1,561,881 
bushels. The grain movement, which is the 
basis of the city's commerce, indicates the 
ratio of its growth, and is as follows : — 

Bushels. Bushels. Bushels. Bushels. 

1851, 57H..i.-SO 1854, 2,5U,617 1857, S.727,4K8 1862, IK.T.iO.mKl 

1852, 1,029,379 1855, 3.75»,ii65 1858, 6,155.507 189fi, 18,:oO,(KlO 

1853, l,47t;,'ja8 185G, 3,720,103 Ibotf, 6,438,038 1870, 23,100,000 



We may recapitulate these lake cities in 
the following table, showing the date of set- 
tlement, of incorporation, and population at 
that date, with the population and valuation 
in 1850 and 1860 : — 

Settled. Incorporated. Population. 

Buffalo 1801 1 8:32 8,653 

Oswego 1S20 1848 10,305 

Cleveland... 1799 1836 4,000 

Detroit 1683 1802 700 

Ohicngo !>23 1835 800 

Milwaukee .. 1830 1S40 9,655 

Total 34,113 

Population Total Population Total 

in 1850. Valuation. in 1800. Valuation. 

Buffalo... 49,764 $18,427,000 117,715 §112,920,150 

Oswego ... 12,205 9,107,202 20,910 19,425,800 

Cleveland.. 17,084 12.102,101 93,918 92,325,000 

Detroit.... 21.057 10,741,657 79,588 79,809,951 

Chicago . . . 29,963 81,205,000 298,9S3 358,783,515 

Milwaulceo 31,077 18,421,000 71,499 57,805,772 

Total... 16 1, 100 $100,003,960 682,613 712,370,138 

Thus these prominent cities have grown 
up, so to speak, in 35 years, as points where 
farm produce is received from the country 
for sale and where goods are furnished in 
exchange. The whole value of the lake 
trade has been estimated at $1200,000,000 
per annum, and the transaction of this busi- 
ness has, it appears, created six cities, with 
a population of 682,610 and a taxable valu- 
ation of $712,330,198. The manufactures 
have gradually increased in those cities in 
order to produce a local supply instead of 
importing, and new inventions in sewing 
and other machines have promoted that 
change, as machinery aided the development 
of surplus produce. The aggregate trade 
poured upon the lakes from all these sources 
has been increasingly large. The aggregate 
quantities of grain shipped from the grain 
regions are seen in the fullovdng table, which 
shows the routes taken to market : — 

1857. 1858. 1859. 

Fiffl Lake Ontario 18.044.35-i 11,872.995 14,874,961 

Ft«8u.spen.sion liriilse ... 1,049,108 1,900,000 337,778 

Fta Lake Erie 22,031,164 29,132,121 S4,730,.'xS3 

From Ohio lliver eastward 4,352,036 6,242,441 '1,446,281 

Grand total 45,470,002 49,447,557 44,3-9,602 

The totals were composed of these foUoAv- 
ing grains : — 

Flour. Wheat. Corn. 0th. Grain. Tot.il in 

barrels. bushels. bushels, bushels. bushels. 

IS.'jO, 3,879,189 19,956,025 14,282,632 4,6.34,969 5S.269,.'571 

1S57, 3,412,904 17,362,161 8,779.832 2,270,149 4.^476,662 

18.\8, 4,602,780 20,794,515 10,558,527 5,080,615 49,447,.Ni7 

18:.9, 8,760,285 16,864,812 4,423,096 4,310,269 44,389,602 

1870, 3,315,909 36,246,176 1,423.260 1,097,949 45,346.930 

These fluctuations follow the course of 
western business. In 1857 there was a 
heavy decline under the influence of the 
panic of that year. In 1858 the speculative 
consumption of the interior having ceased, 
the quantities that sought market were less 



» 



^-^5. 



WESTERN SETTLEMENT AND TRADE. 



179 



tlian in 1856. The railroads also delivered 

considoraMo quant it ios. 

The rapid settlement of the west attracted 
the attention of the Canadians, and they be- 
gan early with some energy to take measures 
tliat should give them their share of it. 
The St. Lawrence river was for them the 
only outlet, and to make that ser^^ceable, ex- 
tensive works were necessary to pass around 
the rapids, and make navigation practicable 
from the lakes to the sea. The AVelland 
canal, ])assing around the Falls and connect- 
ing Lakes Eric and Ontario, was constructed, 
with other necessary works, comi)leting, in 
1846, a system, at a cost of $20,000,000. 
The tolls on these Avorks were considerable, 
and duties on goods imported into Canada 
from the United States were so high as to 
check trade — the more so that similar duties 
were imposed in the LTnited States on Cana- 
dian goods. In 1850 the navigation laws 
were repealed, opening the canals and rivers 
to foreign vessels. The dilHcultics in the 
way of navigating the St. Lawrence have 
since that date been, to a great extent, re- 
moved. Many light-houses have been con- 
structed, the system of pilotage lias been 
revised, a service of tug-boats, of great power, 
and working at moderate rates, has been 
organized, and the depth of water between 
Quebec and Montreal has been increased by 
dredging, so as to permit the passage of 
vessels drawing eighteen feet six inches. 
With these changes and improvements a 
new element lias been introduced. The 
construction of railways had begun to occupy 
the attention of the public mind in Canada. 
In 1849 an act of the Colonial Legislature 
was passed guaranteeing 6 per cent, on half 
the cost of all the railways seventy-five miles 
in extent. Three years later the Grand 
Trunk line, from Montreal to Toronto, and 
from Quebec to liiviere-du-Loup, was incor- 
porated as a part of the Main Trunk line, 
and the line from (Quebec to Richmond had 
been commenced. In 1853 the amalgama- 
tion of all the companies forming the Main 
Trunk line was completed, under a Parlia- 
mentary sanction with powers to construct 
the A'ictoria Bridge across the St. Lawrence, 
and thereby connect the lines west of Mon- 
treal with those leading to Quebec and Port- 
land. 

By tlie aid of all these enterprises com- 
bined, there is now in operation in Canada 
2,093 miles of railway, including 1,112 miles 
of the Grand Trunk, the whole connected 



with the great winter liarbor of Portland, in 
the state of Maine. 

To give effect to this great system of 
comnuinication, the whole system of tolls 
upon inland navigation has been abandoned. 
The whole line of luuigation from Chicago 
to the Atlantic is now free from tolls and 
lake dues, the ports of Sault Ste. Marie 
and Gaspe liave been made free ports, and it 
is probable many more will be thrown 
open. A recipiocity treaty between Canada 
and the United States was adopted in lH.')i, 
which continued in force till March LSCiC), 
when, as the two contracting parties could 
not agree on terms for its renewal, it exi)ired. 
This ti'eaty designated a number of articles 
which were to be free from duty, and also 
granted some concessions in regard to the 
fisheries in return for some privileges which 
Canadians received here. The treaty went 
into o])eration in the latter part of l«o4, and 
the trade was affected by it as follows : 



18G0, 


18 667,429 


22,706,328 


23,851,381 


18C.1, 


18,883,715 


22,745,613 


23,002,933 


1 802, 


18 652,012 


21,079,115 


19,299,995 


1803, 


28,629,110 


31,281,030 


24,021.204 


1864, 


26,567,221 


28,9S7,147 


38.922.015 


1805, 


30,455,989 


32,553,841 


3>', 820, 969 


1806, 


20,874,888 


29.350,572 


54,714,383 


1807, 


20,548,704 


24.323,109 


33,004,178 


1868, 


23,600,717 


26,202,272 


30,302,221 


1869, 


20,891,786 


24,197,212 


32,090,314 



$362,900,937 $444,512,595 $435,443,751 
1870, 25,118,604 37,307,076 

The exports of United States pro(bice to 
Canada have been in this period of eighteen 
years nearly $73,000,000 less than tlie im- 
ports from Canada. But there have been 
exported to Canada, in the same time, about 
$a2,000,000 of foreign goods first received 
at our own ])orts, so that the balance of the 
trade was about $9,''HIO,000 in our favor. 
1 he domestic exports are composed of the 
produce shipped from the American lake 
ports, and entered at the Canadian ports. 

It will be noticed that on the exjiiralion of 
the treaty in March, 18(>G, there was a very 
manifest effort to crowd Caniidian goods into 
our markets. th(» imports from Canada being 
nearly S1G,000,00() more than in any former 
year, while the Canadians were not dis])o-ed 
to take so many of our goods as usual. This 
matter, however, speedily regulated itself, 
and the trade is now very nearly what it 
was before the treaty was animlled. 

The efforts of Canada to obtain the trade, 
and cause it to pass down the St. Luu rence, 



180 



LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 



had to overcome, however, tlic climate, to be 
successful ; for four months in the year that 
outlet is ice-bound, "vvhile the ports of Lake 
Ontario are never closed by the ice, and offer 
railroad connection with New York, Boston, 
and Philadelphia, the fonner for export and 
the latter for supplies of manufacture. 



CHAPTER II. 

RIVER CITIES— ATLANTIC CITIES. 

The development g^iven to the lake cities 
by the canal and railroad construction, was 
participated in to as great an extent by the 
river cities, the course of whose trade flowed 
downward toward New Orleans as an out- 
let. 

Pittsburg is situated at the point where 
the junction of the Monongahela and Alle- 
ghany forms the Ohio river, which thence 
flows to the Gulf of Mexico. The origin of 
the place dates from its occupation by the 
French as a post, and its growth is due to 
its commanding position. It is 301 miles 
east by north from Philadelphia, and is 130 
miles from Lake Erie. The traveller de- 
scends the river 450 miles to Cincinnati ; 
583 to Louisville, Kentucky; 977 to Cairo, 
where the Ohio pours into the Mississippi ; 
1,157 to St. Louis, and 2,004 miles to New 
Orleans. That vast valley collects in its 
course the produce coming right and left 
by streams, canals, and railroads, to deliver 
it at New Orleans, whence ascend the mer- 
chandise, tropical products, and materials of 
manufacture, to be distributed at the com- 
mercial and manufacturing ports. The 
position of Pittsburg was the most impor- 
tant, commercially, until the opening of the 
Erie canak Its resources were highly 
favorable to ship-building, and it supplied 
the first boats that descended the Ohio. The 
commerce and ship-building prospered 
largely during the war of 1812, but after the 
peace it declined. Since that period manu- 
factures have taken the place of commerce, 
and it ranks next to Philadelphia as a man- 
ufacturing town. The population in 1800 
was 1,0 Go, and in 1816 it was incorporated 
as a city with about 6,150 inhabitants. 
The population of Pittsburg in 1870 was 
86,235, while Alleghany City, across the 
river, had 53,181, and other suburbs really 
forming part of the city, about 75,000 
-more, making a total of about 210,000. 



Xlie progress of the city has been as fol- 
lows : — 





Population. 


Value ofnianufnctures. 


1816, 


6,182 


$1,896,366 


is;^6, 


15,481 


15,575,440 


1850, 


46.601 


55,287,000 


1800. 


49.220 


70,000,000 


1870, 


86,235 


111,881,000 



Cincinnati was located at the mouth of 
the Licking river in 1788, in the centre of 
an area which commanded the commerce of 
the Miami, the Wabash, the Scioto, the 
Muskingum, and the Kanawha rivers. These 
streams delivered large quantities of produce 
to foster the trade of Cincinnati, which grew 
with great rapidity, corresponding mostly 
with New Orleans, to which its merchants 
sent the produce, and made purchases of 
goods in the eastern states, which came up 
the river from New Orleans by a long voy- 
age, charged with heavy expenses for freight, 
insurance, etc. The exchanges ran on New 
Orleans against the produce sent down, and 
these credits were the means of payments 
for goods. The opening of the Ohio canal 
to the lakes, to correspond with the Erie 
canal to tide-water, gave a new outlet for 
produce of the northern part of Ohio by way 
of Cleveland, and also a better channel for 
the receipt of goods. The net-work of rail- 
roads has still further multiplied the means 
of comnmnication. Portland, Boston, New 
York, l*hiladelphia, and Baltimore, are almost 
equidistant from Cincinnati, which by the 
same means has its markets extended in a 
broader circle west. The progress of the 
city has been as follows : — 

Population. Imports. Manufactures. Exports, 
ison, 7f,0 



1810. 2,540 

^^20, 9,(>« $1,619,030 

l^Slt, 24,^S1 '2..VJS.,')90 

ISaO, SI.'IllT 8,'2TO,000 

1S40, 46,St;8 l(i.97li,000 

18.)0, 115,<86 4l.a.')fi,199 

isro, 11.044 pr..ri.s.s74 



$1,059,459 $1,334,080 
1,850,000 l,Of,3,560 
12,:iSS.2 s,ini,ooo 
17,780,033 15.480,000 
54.550.134 33,-:34.S!i6 
ll'i.-\'>4.000 w;,('o7,707 
1870, 213,900 312,978,605 127,459,021 ia'5,517,690 
These figures give the rapid growth of the 
city since the railroads have opened a broader 
field from which to draw the materials of 
trade in exchange for merchandise demanded 
by the growers. 

Louisville, Kentucky, was a port early 
in 1781, and it made little progress as a 
city. Its population grew but to 600 in 
1800, and was only 4,012 in 1820. The 
difficulties of navigation were a drawback 
upon its commerce, until the Portland canal, 
two miles long, which had been authorized 
in 1804, around the falls of the Ohio, was 
opened in 1830. The cost of the work, 
$600,000, was paid, one-third by the United 



RIVER CITIES ATLANTIC CUTIES. 



181 



States, and the balance mostly in eastern 
cities interested in gettino; goods up the 
river. A bridge over the Ohio was built in 
1836, at a cost of $250,000. The city was 
incorporated in 1828, and its population 
was then 10,3.30. In 1836 the population 
was 19,907, and the annual amount of busi- 
ness transacted was $29,004,202. In 1840 
the population was 21,210, and in 1850 it 
had again doubled, reaching 43,194. 

St. Louis was occupied as a French trad- 
ing post in 1763, and the town was laid out 
in the following year, with the name of St. 
Louis, in honor of that Louis XV. who had 
so little claim to saintship. The first im- 
pulse to its growth was, however, the annex- 
ation of Louisiana to the United States, 
■when emigrants poured into the new coun- 
try, bringing with them a spirit of enterprise 
which soon made visible effects upon St. 
Louis, the commerce of which struggled 



against the difficulti(!s inherent in barge 
and keel boat navigation. In 1817 the 
General I'ike, the first steamboat, arrived at 
St. Louis. That event marked a new era, 
and in 1822, the population being 4,598, the 
city was incorporated. It was not until the 
settlement of the nortli-western states, under 
the influence of the canals and railroads, that 
the prosperity of St. Louis became marked. 
In 1836 the sales of merchandise in St. 
Louis were given at 86,335,000 ; in 1858 the 
local insurance was $31, 800, 232. The popu- 
lation of the city, which liad been 63,491 in 
1848, rose to 151,780 in 1860, and the city 
valuation was .!578,463,375. The settlements 
of the upper Mississippi, east and west, pour 
naturally an increasing trade into the city, 
and its raili'oad connections are now push- 
ing out toward the Pacific. Wo may re- 
capitulate the leading river cities as fol- 
lows : — 



Settled. 
Date. 

Pittsburg 1784, 

Cincinnati 178S, 

Louisville 1773, 

St. Louis 1764, 



Incorporated. 1840. I'S-'iO, 

Diile. Popuhit'n Populat'n. Population. Valuation. 



1860. 
Population. Valuation. 



IS 16, 
1802, 
1808, 
1822, 



6,150 

890 

10,.'!r.6 

4,598 



21,115 
4(;,333 
21,210 
lfi,4G9 



4G.I 01 
115,436 
43,lQi 

77,860 



$'J7.!i('o,6()0 
5.\07(i.031 
17,277,i;00 
3s,n'J 1,201 



49.220 
101,044 

09,740 
151,780 



140,866,600 
91.861.978 
30,(142,800 
78,463,375 



Total 21,974 105,221 283,091 |139,S30,032 4:31,784 $247,234,753 



The numbers and wealth of the river cities 
have increased in a ratio, perhaps, larger than 
the lake cities. They divide with the latter 
the trade of country lying between the lakes 
and the Ohio river, drawing produce and 
shipping merchandise, while they have also a 
strong hold upon southern trade. The busi- 
ness of all those cities, as well lake as river, is 
but a reflection of the growth of the great sea- 
ports. The canals, streams, and railroads that 
pour forth their products in a southerly di- 
rection, and feed the river cities, combine 
with the other business points of the region to 
swell the trade of New Orleans, the common 
correspondent of all ; the roads, rivers, and 
streams that deliver their trade in a northerly 
and easterly direction, glut the great trunk 
lines with the merchandise which they pour 
into Boston, New York, Philadelphia, and 
Baltimore. 

The city of New Orleans, at the Delta 
of the Mississippi, is commercially the second 
city of the Union, and in respect to the ex-, 
ports of domestic produce, it ranks first. Its 
position is very advantageous, and its growth 
has been proportional to tlie development 
of the country, the resources of which sup- 
ply it with produce and depend upon it for 
merchandise in return. The city itself was 



founded by the French in I7l7, and passed 
into the hands of the Spanish in 1762. By 
them it was reconveyed to the French in 
1 800, and was sold by Napoleon to the L'nited 
States in 1804. At that time its population, 
mostly French, was 8,056, and it was rapidly 
increased by the fact of annexation, which 
not only carried enterprising men thither, but 
settled the upper country, which was the 
source of trade. The city was chartered in 
1805. In 1820 the population had increased 
to 27,176 persons, but the exports of the 
city still consisted mostly of the produce of 
the upper country, which a population, in- 
creased rapidly by the influence of war and 
speculation, had greatly developed, although 
the valley of the Mississippi had not yet 
attracted cotton planters. In 1830 the trade 
of the city marked a larger production of 
farm produce. In the succeeding ten years 
the migration from the Atlantic cotton states 
to the new lands of the valley produced a 
great change in the trade of New Orleans. 
The cotton receipts rose from 300,000 bales 
in 1830, to 954,000 in 1840, and tobacco 
from twenty -four to forty-tliree thousand 
liogsheads, and the sugar crop also had risen 
to 85,000 hhds. The exports were now 
swollen by the sales of cotton and tobacco, 



182 



LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 



but, with the operation of the canals and 
railroads in the upper country, the supplies 
of home produce had again become impor- 
tant. The progress of New Orleans has 



been as follows. The figures for 1860 are 
notpubiishod, but the cotton is 30 percent, 
higher, and the amount will be about |200,- 
000,000 received from the interior. 



1804, 
1810, 
1820, 
1830, 
1840, 
1850. 
1851, 
1852, 
1853, 
1854, 
1855, 
1856, 
1857, 
1858, 
1859, 
1870, 



Population. 

8,056 

17,242 

27,176 

46,310 

102,193 

116,375 



168,472 
191,322 



Imports. 



$3,379,717 
7,599,083 
10,673.190 
10,760,499 
12.528,460 
12,057,724 
13,654,113 
14,402,150 
12,923,608 
17,183,327 
24,981,150 
19,586,013 
18,349,516 
14,993,754 



Exports. 
$1,392,093 
1,753,974 
7,242,415 
13,042,740 
34.236.936 
38,105.350 
54,413,963 
49,058,885 
67,768,724 
60,172,628 
55,688,552 
80,547,963 
91,514,286 
88,382,438 
101,734,952 
107,651,042 



Keceipts from 
lutorior. 



$45,761,045 
96,897,873 
106,924,083 
108,051,708 
134,233,731 
115,336,798 
117,106,823 
144,256,081 
158,061,369 
167,155,546 
172,952,664 
205,000,000 



Keceipts of 
Specie. 



$.3,792,662 
7,938,119 
6,278,523 
7,865,226 
6,967,056 
3,746,037 
4,913,540 
6,500,015 
13,268,013 
15,627,016 



Valuiition of 
Keai Estate. 



$66,350,260 



108,651,135 
111,193,802 
127,942,781 



This table embraces the official figures for 
population, trade, and valuation. The most 
marked feature is the small amount of im- 
ports as compared with exports. This we 
shall find to be the reverse with the trade of 
New York ; the trade of the two cities for 
the past year having been as follows : — 

New York. New Orleans. 

Imports $315,200,022 $14,993,744 

Exports 254,137,208 107,657,042 

The exports from New York, exclusive 
of specie and foreign goods re-exported, were 
Sl8o,740,()61, the imports exceeding this by 
$129,459,901, while at New Orleans the ex- 
cess of exports was $82,564,902. These 
figures represent the course of trade. The 
receipts from the interior at New Orleans 
rose from $96,897,873 in 1850, to $172,952,- 
664 in 1859. The vicissitudes of the war 
made great changes in the commerce of New 
Orleans, yet these receipts in 1 870 were about 
$33,000,000 greater than in 1859. Sugar 
and molasses were $9,945,245 ; cotton was 
$120,000,000; rice, $869,340, while farm 
produce, minerals, &c., made up, together, a 
little more than $75,000,000. The lighter 
merchandise which forms the sum of imports 
into ?sew York, instead of going round byway 
of New Orleans, goes across the country on 
railroads. It fullow.s, that when the west 
sends forty millions of produce to New Or- 
leans for sale, and has purchased an equal 
amount of goods in the east, that its money 
is in New Orleans and its debts in New York. 
It draws upon New Orleans then to pay 
New York. New Orleans being so large an 



exporter, has large sums due it, for which it 
draws to meet what it owes to the west for 
produce. This state of aft'airs is the basis of 
bill operations. Firms being connected, one 
at Liverpool, one at New Orleans, and one at 
New York, the New Orleans house buys 
cotton for shipment to England, and draws 
for it at sixty days on the New York fiiTn ; 
the bill being discounted, places him in funds 
to pay for the cotton, which will arrive in 
Liverpool in thirty days. The New York 
firm draws a sterling bill against it at sixty 
days, and, with the proceeds, meets the bill 
drawn on it from New Orleans. The 
sterling bill is then met by the sales of cotton 
four months after it was bought. In the 
mean time, the bill on New York passes into 
the hands of the western debtors of New 
York, who send it thither in payment of 
goods purchased. The sterling bill is sold 
to the New York importer, who remits it 
abroad in payment of goods imported. The 
receipts of cotton and sugar have been very 
large of late years, but the quantities of west- 
ern produce resulting from the more rapid set- 
tlement of the land under the influence of 
the railroads, liave also greatly increased. In 
1840, the value of cotton, sugar, and to- 
bacco received was $36,124,275, leaving but 
$9,591,770 for western produce. In the 
year of famine the aggregate receipts at 
New Orleans rose to $90,033,251, of which 
$42,599,361 Avas western produce. In 1857, 
those articles were valued at $49,009,976 ; 
flour and grain counting in tliat year for 
nearly $1 5,000,000. By means of time bills, 
New Orleans thus furnishes a large capital to 
dealers ; and in years of economy and ro- 



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niVEIl CITIES ATLANTIC CITIES. 



183 



trenchment, when the purchases of goods are 
diminished, it shows a large inward current 
of specie. In 1851, California supplied a 
good deal of gold at that point, hut changed 
direction after the cstablislnnent of a mint 
at San Francisco, and the receipts of specie 
were small at New Orleans in 1855 — a specu- 
lative year. They became large with the 
panic year, and continued so till 1861, when 
the city, joining in the Rebellion, the branch 
mint was discontinued, and has not since 
been re-established. 

While New Orleans thus expanded its 
trade, and grew in wealth under the influ- 
ence of western production, the proportion 
that it enjoyed was by no means the largest. 
Each Atlantic city had made efforts to ob- 
tiiin a share, and, with more or less success, 
Canada sought to attract it down the St. 
Lawrence. New York built two railroads to 
aid the canals in connecting the lakes with 
tide water. Boston formed a connection 
with the Hudson river, and another with the 
lakes at Ogdensburgh. I'hiladelphia im- 
proved its hold on Pittsb\irg. Baltimore 
thrust out its iron arm to Wheeling, and all 
these offered inducements to trade. The 
number of tons moved one mile during given 
years in each shows the progress of trade : 



Tons. Tons 

Eriecaml, 1840 312,016,346 

New York canals, 1869 919,153,611 

New York t'entral railroad, 1869 .2,179,419.726 

New York and Erie, 1869 817,829,190 2,211 ,402,527 

Increase in tonnage, 1,899,386,131 



The valuation of this tonnage is nearly 
$350,000,000 per annum, and this affords an 
indication only of the wealth which has 
passed eastward. Thus, in 1 840, the value of 
western produce, that found market by New 
Orleans and the Erie canal, was $151,000,000; 
in 1858, it was nearly $400,000,000, or an 
increase ten-fold, and on this mainly has 
the prosperity of the eastern cities depended. 
The exports of the southern ports have 
grown mostly with the direct export of cot- 
ton, and those at the north have added grad- 
ually food and manufactures thereto. The 
general course of trade has been to cen- 
tralize imports in New York. 

Charleston owes its origin to a stock 
similar to that of New England, since a 
colony of French Huguenots, flying from 
persecution, settled there in 1690. It was 
not chartered as a city, however, until nearly 



a century later, viz. : in 1783, when its popu- 
lation was nearly 10,000. The commerce of 
Cliurleston is not extensive, but its facilities 
for internal comnumications are large, and 
enjoys the trade of the whole state, together 
with much of that of North Carolina and 
Georgia. A canal, twenty-two miles long, 
connects the Cooper with the Santee river. 
It has a fleet of steamboats that are running 
to the neighboring cities, and several lines 
of packets running to New York regularly. 
Its most important connection is, however, 
the South Carolina railroad, running 136 
miles to Hamburg, on the Savannah river, 
opposite Augusta, Georgia. The population 
and business have been as follows : — 

ropulatlon. Imports. P'.xports. 

1790, 16.359 $4,516,205 $J,69;^,268 

1820, 24,480 3,007,113 8.882,940 

1830, 30,289 1,054.619 7,627,031 

1840, 29,261 2,318,791 11,042.070 

1850, 42,985 1,933,785 11,447,800 



1860, 
1870, 



51,210 
48,956 



2,070 219 16,.S,S8,262 

617,094 11,184,208 



The importations have decreased and the 
export also, in consetjuence of the bu-iness 
depression which followed the w:u'. and from 
which the city is now slowly recovering. 

Baltimore was laid out as a town, by 
Roman Catholics, in 1729, and up to 1765 
it contained but fifty houses. The persua- 
sion of the founders still predominates. It 
is situated on the Patapsco river, fourteen 
miles from Chesapeake bay, and two hundred 
miles from the ocean. The harbor is a very 
fine one. The city enjoys great facilities for 
commerce, and possesses the trade of Mary- 
land and part of Pennsylvania, while it has 
of late obtained a good share of that of the 
western states. It was the great tobacco 
market of the country, but Richmond now 
rivals it in that respect. As a flour market, 
it has few equals. The building of railroads 
to connect with the interior has greatly pro- 
moted the city trade, which has progressed 
as follows : — 

Population. Imports. Kxports. 

1790, 13,503 $6,018,500 $2,239,691 

1800, 26,514 12,264,331 

1810, 46,555 6,489,018 

1820, 02,738 4,070,842 6,609,364 

1830, 80,625 4,523,866 3,791,482 

1840, 102,313 5,701,869 4,524,575 

1850, 169,054 6,124,201 6,967,353 

1860, 212,419 8,930,157 10,442,616 

1870, 267,354 20,000,000 12,765,052 

The importations have been usually fol- 
lowed ^^'th increase in exports, but 1870 



184 



LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 



was an exception in consequence of the 
Franco-German war, which cut off the Eu- 
ropean demand for tobacco. 

Philadelphia, at the close of the last cen- 
tury ,was the first city of America, and though 
it has not ceased to expand since that time, 
yet New York, by force of natural advanta- 
ges, has come to exceed it as a commercial 
city. Its resources for manufacturing are 
such, however, as to have given it a high 
rank in the interior trade of the country. 
The water-power of the neighborhood is very 
important, and rails and canals give it com- 
mand of limitless supjilies of raw materiiils, 
coal and iron in particular. The position of 
the city was early improved by the construc- 
tion of canals to the extent of 336 miles, at 
a cost of $"24,()00,000; and seven lines, com- 
posed of 12 railroads, of 5(57 miles in length, 
radiated to every point of the compass, hav- 
ing cost $53,716,201. The canals and roads 
liave swollen the conl receipts of Philadelphia 
from 365 tons in 1820, to more than 10,000,- 
000 tons in 1870, valued at $35,000,00<) 
per annum. The population and external 
ti'ade of Philadelphia have been as follows : — 

Population. Imports. Exports. Total valuation. 
1634, 'ASCO 

1791, 42,5'20 13,430,80!? 

1820, 108,116 $8,158,922 5,743,549 $40,487,239 

1840, 2.1S.1137 ll,r>80,lll 8,841,599 99,321,881 

1850, 4(18.762 12,066,154 4,501.606 

l-■''^ 550,000 12,892,215 6,036,411 15.5,697,669 

1870, 674,022 17,355,825 16,649,828 507,987,900 

The city of Philadelphia was first settled 
iu 1627 by the Swedes, but was regulated 
and laid out in 1G82 according to the views of 
William Penn, and its population in 1684 was 
2,500. The city is one hundred miles from 
the ocean, eighty-seven miles from New York, 
and 1 30 miles from Washington. It is five 
miles from the junction of the Schuylkill and 
Delaware rivers, extending from one to the 
other, and its harbor is on theDelaware,or east- 
ern side. Vessels drawing more than twenty 
feet water cannot reach Philadelphia, and the 
navigation for large ships below is a little 
difficult. Pilots take inward bound ships at 
sea. These circumstances have aided to give 
Philadelphia, a moderate foreign commerce 
as compared with the commanding harbor 
of New York. 

But if the foreign commerce of Philadel- 
phia is moderate, owing to physical diffi- 
culties, the internal commerce, from sales of 
manufactures and goods imported at New 
York, is very large — and the real growth 
of the city is indicated by her external trade 
less than tliat of, perhaps, any other city of 



the Union. The census of 1870 showed a 
I^opulation of 674,022. The manufacturing 
industry of Philadelphia has increased in a 
remarkable ratio. In 1845 the capital em- 
ployed in the city proper was $18,000,000, 
the production $21,000,000, and of the 
neighborhood $33,000,000. 

In 1870 the capital invested in the various 
industries was given at $205,564,238,employ- 
ing 1 19,532 hands, and producing $251,663,- 
921 of annual value. In the vicinity the amount 
is $47,^00,000 adcUtional. These figures de- 
note that Philadelphia is probably the great- 
est manufacturing city of the Union, and 
will continue to grow in that direction by 
the force of the same influences which tend 
to give New York the commercial prepon- 
derance. The trade of the city is on a grand 
scale, and second to none in the world for 
magnitude of operations, or successful method 
in conducting them. A leading store of that 
city is a model of mercantile method. Each 
department in the store is alphabetically 
designated. The shelves and rows of goods 
in each department are numbered, and upon 
the tag attached to the goods is marked the 
letter of the department, the number of the 
shelf, and row on that shelf to which such 
piece of goods belongs. The cashier receives 
a certain sum extra per week, and he is res- 
ponsible for all worthless money received. 
Books are kept, in which the sales of each 
clerk are entered for the day, and the salary 
of the clerk cast, as a per-centage on each 
day, week, and year, and, at the foot of the 
page, the aggregate of the sales appears, and 
the per-centage that it has cost to effect 
these sales is easily calculated for each day, 
month, or year. The counters are desig- 
nated by an imaginary color, as the blue, 
green, brown, etc., counter. The yard-sticks 
and counter-brush belonging to it are painted 
to correspond with the imaginary color of 
the counter ; so by a very simple arrange- 
ment, each of these necessaries is kept where 
it belongs; and should any be missing, the 
faulty clerks are easily known. 

All wrapping paper coming into the store 
is immediately taken to a counter in the 
basement, where a lad attends with a pair 
of shears, whose duty it is to cut the paper 
into pieces to correspond with the size of the 
parcels sold at the different departments, to 
which he sees that it is transferred. All 
pieces too small for this, even to the smallest 
scraps, are by him put into a sack, and what 
is usually thrown away by our merchant!, 



-. 'l. 




M 



GOV. STUYVE^ANT S MANSION, X. Y., 
(Ill uldeii tiiiie.j 




A. T. STLWAUl^. l:l.^ll^^..^^l.. 1 U 111 AVENTK. N. V.. FIliST CI, \SS IlWEl.l.lXG. ISTU. 



NEW YORK TELEGRAPH EXPRESS COLD. 



185 



yields to the systematic man some $20 per 
year. In one part of the estahlishment is a 
tool closet, with a work-bench attached ; the 
closet occupies but little space, yet in it is 
seen almost every useful tool, and this is 
arranged with the hand-saw to form the cen- 
tre, and the smaller tools radiating from it 
in sun form ; behind each article is painted, 
with black paint, the shape of the tool be- 
longing in that place. 

It is, consequently, impossible that any 
thing should be out of place except through 
design, and if any tool is missing, the wall 
will show the shadow without the substance. 
The proprietor's desk stands at tlie further 
end of the store, raised on a platform facing 
the front, from which he can sec all the 
operations in each section of the retail de- 
partment. From this desk run tubes, con- 
necting with each department of the store, 
from the garret to the cellar, so tluit if a 
person in any department, either porter, re- 
tail, or wholesale clerk, wishes to communi- 
cate with the employer, he can do so with- 
out leaving his station. Pages are kept in 
eacli department to take the bill of parcels, 
together with tlie money paid, and return 
the bill receipted, and change, if any, to the 
customer. So that the salesman is never 
obliged to leave the counter ; he is at all 
times ready either to introduce a new article 
or watch that no goods are taken from his 
counter, excepting those accounted for. 

By a peculiar method of casting the per- 
centage of a clerk's salary on liis sales, coup- 
ling it with the clerk's general conduct, and 
the style of goods he is selling, a just esti- 
mate may be formed of the relative value of 
the services of each, in proportion to his 
salary. By the alphabetic arrangement of 
departments, numbering of slielves, and form 
of the tools, any clerk, no matter if he has 
not been in the store more than an hour, can 
arrange every article in its proper place ; and 
at any time, if inquired of respecting, or re- 
ferred to by any clerk, the proprietor is able 
to speak understandingly of the capabilities 
and business qiialitiesof any of liis employees. 
Population in 1860, 673,022. 

Boston was settled early in tlic seven- 
teenth century, and in lG8t was the most 
populous of the Atlantic cities, having 6,300 
inhabitants. It is 21G miles from New 
York, and although possessed of one of the 
finest harbors on the coast, it had no facilities 
for reaching the back countrv, which was for 
the most part rocky and mountainous, until 





Population. 


1«H4, 


(■'.3(10 


1790, 


18,033 


1H2(), 


43,'.93 


1S30, 


61,392 


1S40, 


S)3.at8 


JS50, 


]3«,K^^1 


1S65, 


lfi2,(v-9 


1K58, 


no. 000 


1870, 


250,626 



railroads were constructed. Its early trade 
was in navigation and the fisheries. Its first 
adventure was in 1627, when a sloop, loaded 
with corn, was sent to Narraganset to trade, 
and made an encourafjinjx voyaire. Its in- 
habitants soon became rich by dointr the 
trade of others in their celebrated ships, un- 
til manufacturing became possible. The 
energy and intelligence of the race, when 
turned in that direction, soon drew large 
profits from their industry, and more freight 
for their coasting tonnage, which increased 
as the numbers engaged in manufacture re- 
quired more food and raw materials. The 
greatest start was given to the trade of the 
city when railroads liad laid open even the 
remotest regions of the interior to its enter- 
prise. The general course of its population, 
trade, and valuation has been as follows : — 

Iiuports. Exports. Valuation. 

$5,519,500 $2,5IT,651 $6,990,890 

14,S2(),:32 ]l,(J08,y-22 85.288,200 

J0,453,.544 T.213.194 61,7s0,2I0 

13,300,925 9,104.&C2 102,101,201 

30,374,684 10,CSI,7P3 180.000,500 

43,113,774 28,190.925 249,262,500 

40,432,710 20,979,^53 262,014.500 

47.524,845 14,108,821 584,089,400 

Tlie exports of Boston have taken a great 
start since 1830, and since then there have 
been constructed nine lines of railroad, which 
radiate from Boston in every direction ; 
placing every town in New England in con- 
nection witliit, and by continuous lines, every 
city of the Union, from Bangor to New 
Orleans, St. Louis, Chicago, and St. Paul. 
The running of the line of Cunard steamers 
gives it a European connection more prompt 
and regular than any other. Its extensive 
trade shows the eftect of these connections, 
and its taxable valuation the wealth that 
accumulates from its manufacturing industry. 
That valuation was, for 1870, $5^4,089,400, 
and the population 250,526. 

CHAPTER ITT. 

NEW YORK— TELP^GRAPII— EXPRESS- 
GOLD. 

The city of New York, at the close of the 
revolution, was the second city of the new 
world, taking rank after I'hiladelphia. Its in- 
ternal trade was limited to the capacity of the 
Hudson river, but its traders pushed across to 
Lake Chaniplain, and even to Lake Ontario, 
whence they drew skins and furs from the 
Indians, and brought down some of the prod- 
uce of Vermont and New Hampshire. At 
this date there was little trade west of 
Albany. The trade was mostly with the 



186 



LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 



towns on tlie east side of the river, and with 
Rutland, Burlington, and other Vermont 
towns, as well as the western towns of Massa- 
chusetts. Remittances were made from 
these towns in ashes, wheat, etc., and during 
the emhargo and war, smuggling was very ex- 
tensively carried on, taking pay in specie. 
The goods went up the river in sloops. The 
New England cities had equal commercial 
advantages, and Philadelphia enjoyed many 
others in addition. The valley of the Hud- 
son furnished, however, large supplies of 
farm produce during the wars of Europe, 
which gave a preponderance to the New 
York trade, and it began to gain strength. 
In 1807 the passage of Fulton's steamer to 
Albany gave a great impulse to the river 
trade, iler statesmen, however, soon saw 
the necessity of a more extended inland com- 
munication, and the canal, which had been 
projected before the peace, became a legal 
reality in 1817, and a physical fact in 1825. 
The capital of the New York merchants be- 
gan to be invested in enterprises which re- 
sulted in centring trade in the city. The 
canal connection opened the vast circle of 
the lake trade to New York city, and poured 
into its basin the western farm produce at 
rates far below what the same articles could 
be raised for at the east. As a necessity, 
therefore. New York became the point of 
supply, not only for the foreign trade, but 
for the neighboring states. The growing 
manufactures of Philadelphia and Boston 
found cheaper food in ISew York than in 
their own neighborhood, and North river 
sloops and schooners continued the Erie 
canal to the Delaware and the Charles river. 
As new routes to the west, and more ex- 
tended settlements in that region opened 
new sources for the supply of produce, and 
new markets for goods, the tendency was to 
New York. The capital engaged in com- 
merce at that point being the largest, prod- 
uce found readier advances and more 
prompt realization, while the large imports 
and consignments of foreign goods made the 
assortmeiit larger and the average cost less 
there than elsewhere. The same circum- 
stance that drew produce into New York 
bay, also drew eastern manufactures to the 
same point, and this increased the assort- 
ment which was to be found at the common 
centre. The fact that produce tended gen- 
erally to New York, as a matter of course 
made it the centre of finance. The United 
States government, and bank, and mint had 



been established at Philadelphia. Those 
circumstances could not, however, control 
the currents of trade. The pork, and corn, 
and wheat of the west, the manufactures of 
the east, the tobacco, cotton, and rice of the 
south, being sent to New York to obtain 
advances, it followed that from all quarters 
bills drawn against produce ran on New 
York. Those bills found buyers among 
the country dealers, who, in all directions, 
wanted to remit to New York to pay for 
goods there purchased. Capital could not 
keep aloof from the focus of transactions, and 
all loans to be made or financial operations 
to be conducted, sought New York. For 
the same reason all funds seeking investments 
went there to find them. Produce, goods, 
raw material, capital, all operated in refer- 
ence to New York, and the foreign trade 
was the motor which kept up the circulation. 
This tendency to a centre once commenced, 
cannot be turned, but it strengthens with 
the general increase of the country. The 
other cities strive to turn a portion of the 
current each in its own direction, but tlie 
result of those efibrts is only to increase the 
aggregate trade of the whole. 

If the amount of specie exported, and for 
the most part that is but a transit trade from 
California, is deducted from the New York 
account, New Orleans will be found to come 
within $88,000,000 of it. The Imes of 
communication with the interior, and the 
facilities for advancing on produce, drew to 
New York a considerable portion of the 
western produce, and operations are now 
there carried on which partake of a specula- 
tive character. Pork, flour, etc., are often sold 
largely for future delivery on the New York 
exchange ; and much of the cotton shipped 
from southern ports direct to Europe, is 
resold in New York many times before it 
arrives out. ^Yhen the cotton is put on 
board ship for Liverpool, samples and bills 
of lading are sent to New York, and the 
cotton sold " in transitu " — that is, during 
its passage to Europe. Should the ocean 
telegraph come into operation, this system 
could be carried to a much greater extent, 
since news from the Liverpool market could 
be received at least thirty days after a cargo 
is shipped before its arrival out; and in 
speculative times, other articles will be sub- 
ject to the same operations. The export of 
corn first became a large business in the 
famine years of 1847-8, and the sub- 
divisions of qualities, round and flat, yellow, 



NEW YORK TELEGRArn EXPRESS GOLD. 



187 



white, etc., then manifested themselves. In 
185i) the crops were greatly beyond any 
former experience, and every available 
means of transportation was taken up to 
convey them to market. The realization of 
them depends upon the quantities that Eu- 
rope may require, and this depends upon the 
events of a few weeks. The steamers now 
give intelligence in eight or ten days, when 
formerly thirty were required. Since the 



ocean telegraphs have worked, the price of 
corn in Liverpool is known simultaneously 
in New York and Chicago, and watisr trans- 
portation pressed to t^e utmost before the 
frosts close it. 

The proportion which each of tlie cities 
named enjoys of the aggregate export trade 
of the whole country, is seen in the following 
table : — 



EXPORTS OF TUB LEADING AETICLES OP DOMESTIC PRODUCE FROM THE CHIEF ATLANTIC CITIES IN 1870. 



Boston. Philadelphia. Baltimore. 

B-cf $92,631 $34,957 $28,521 

l>ork 441,698 116,147 110,710 

LumlRr .*..'. 223,755 92,556 108,029 

Furniture 448,720 3,181 2,060 

Petroloum and coal oils. 586,130 11,662,120 452,120 

Butter 37,875 13,128 30,694 

Cheese 7,623 5,018 11,644 

Hams, &C 255,511 39,272 52,859 

Lard 139,694 234,626 288,657 

Tallow 346,547 119,746 65,518 

Cotton 148,179 3,393,510 

Tobacco, muuutactured. 151,.345 6,218 35,247 

" leaf 478,226 26,757 3,553,418 

Rice 7,922 85 18 

Naval stores 58,321 10,687 607,787 

Brass manufactures 2,764 1,095 2,372 

Iron " .... 1,615,554 384,107 11,832 

Cotton " .... 50,980 5,403 112,203 

Wood " 767,770 894,773 771,105 

Gold and silver coin 10,073 7,317 19,740 

" bullion.. 

Corn 80,519 190,164 224,180 

Wheat 1,504,377 1,293.645 

Flour 1,160,6.53 923,955 2,320,651 

Spirits 652,952 280 366 

Sewing machines 11 7,934 2,460 285 



New 0rlean.s. 

$9,237 

25,914 

30,691 

2,122 

6,920 

7,785 

2,397 

57,341 

227,196 

231,969 

100,686,701 

4,657 

3,047,593 

500 

27,484 

143 

16,297 

12,519 

334,125 

270,.'366 



144,624 

444,180 

1,611,270 

1,7.53 

2,1.55 



New York. 

$1,754,953 

2,098,.345 

729,692 

600,520 

19,815,159 

415,136 

8,824,987 

5,589,822 

4,980,906 

3,013,415 

44 076,.531 

1,246,669 

12,373,804 

55,157 

1,446,218 

150,438 

8,015,305 

2,354,747 

3,OS;!,275 

11,227,516 

11,674,570 

976,208 

28,154,215 

11,614,663 

40,846 

2,066,224 



Total. 

$1,920,299 

2,792,814 

1,194,723 

1,056,603 

32,522,449 

.504,618 

8,851,669 

5,994,505 

5,870,979 

3,777,195 

148,.304,921 

1,434,176 

19,479,798 

63,682 

2,150,497 

156,792 

10,043,155 

3,135,910 

5,851,048 

11,556,012 

11,674,570 

1,715,695 

31,. 396,4 17 

17,631,198 

696,097 

2,187,058 



Total $7,784,376 $16,278,329 $13,507,177 $107,237,091 $186,983,288 $331,903,180 



The opening of the Erie canal in 182.5, 
gave the first decided impulse to the city 
business, and produced a powerful effect 
upon its prosperity. The impulse was pro- 
longed under tlie bank excitement that ex- 
ploded in 1837. The effect of railroad ex- 
tension at the West has, in the last twenty- 
five years, had a still more powerful influence 
upon its growth. The following table gives 
the population, imports, exports, and taxable 
valuation, for a long period : — 



1654, 
1750, 
1790, 
1800, 
1820, 
1830, 
1840, 
1850, 
1855, 
1860, 
1870, 



Population, 

2,000 

10.3S1 

33,131 

60,489 

123.706 

203,007 

312,710 

51.'i,.047 

629,9)4 

813,068 

942,310 



Imports. 
.■?4,.J79 
207.130 
10,7.39,250 
26.201,000 
23,029.216 
30.024,070 
60,440,750 
lll,l'iS,524 
104,776,511 
2.33,718,718 
315,200,022 



Exports. 

$10,093 

a'.,f>32 

2,505,415 

14,045.079 

13,100,918 

19,697,983 

84,2'>4,O80 

52,712,789 

113.731,238 

13S,().30,.')50 

254,131,206 



Valuation. 



$25,645,867 
69,.'').30,7.>3 
125,288,518 
262,23:3,615 
280,001,810 
480,91»8,278 
577,2.30,050 
965,283,4(34 



Up to the year 1840, the business of the 
West depended mostly on the canal, and by 



way of New Orleans. The city held then a 
kind of monopoly, but, like all monopolies, 
it cramped the producers. The large ex- 
penditure at the West for bank capital, in 
the years 1836-37, caused a great credit 
demand for goods upon New York, which 
was generally met. The facilities granted 
in those years by tlie American bankers in 
London, for the purchase of goods on credit, 
placed these within the reach of any dealer 
who could make a fair show ; and the goods 
obtained on credit recpiired to be sold on 
the same terms. The rivalry thus produced 
among those who could command goods, was 
very great, and the utmost efforts were made 
to obtain paper in exchange for goods. The 
banks showed the same eagerness to discount 
the paper that the merchants did to obtain 
it, and tlie mass grew in a rajiid ratio, from 
the small country dealers to city jobbers and 
importers, and Loudon bankers, until the 



LAND SETTLEMENT — INTERNAL TRADE. 



Bank of England, in August, 1836, issued a 
warning to those houses to curtail their 
credits. This was the " hand writing on the 
wall" — settling day h;id conic. The business 
south and west had then been eagerly sought 
after by the jobbing-houses, who employed 
druniniers to haunt the New York hotels 
and beset every new-comer with tempta- 
tions to buy. The dnnnmers of the day had 
usually no limit placed upon their exj)enses, 
which were intended to cover the " atten- 
tions" shown to the country dealer. These 
revelled in the dissipations of the town at the 
apparent expense of their entertainer, and 
they could do no less than buy of such atten- 
tive friends, when the bill, whether they dis- 
covered it or not, would often cover their 
own and other people's expenses. The 
mode of business then in vogue, when baidcs 
were multiplying so rapidly all over the 
countr}', was to take the paper of the dealers, 
payable at their own local bank. It was 
supposed that the dealer would be sure to 
keep liis credit good at home. The result 
sliowed that the dealer, in order to pay the 
New York bill, got an acconnnodation note 
done at his baidc, which thus became the 
debtor of the New York collecting bank. 
By this means, although the New York 
merchant got his money, the west was still 
in debt to the east ; and this continued as 
long as capital was sent from the east to the 
west to start banks. The whole system ex- 
ploded in 1837, and the bank capitals were 
sunk in these credits. From that date there 
was to be " no more credit," a threat which 
has often been repeated without being put 
in practice. The only permanent change 
seemed to be to require notes ])ayable in New 
York. Those are given at dates longer or 
shorter, but the system is an improvement 
on the old mode. With 1840 also began 
the railroad building, which brought stocks 
and bonds to New York for negotiation, and 
the money being expended west promoted 
consumption of goods, which caused a greater 
demand in New York. The exports of prod- 
uce increased at higher prices, and the 
sales of these gave the producers the means 
of buying more goods. In 1838, thirty-oue 
years after the first successful steamboat, ar- 
rived the first ocean steamer, the Sirius, at 
New York, marking a new era in foreign 
trade, since communication with Europe 
was now reduced to half the time, a circum- 
stance which was equivalent to an increase of 
capital engaged in commerce, because it 



could be turned oftener. From that date 
ocean steam navigation rapidly increased. 
The electric telegraph of Morse began a few 
years later to exert its influence in facili- 
tating intercourse, and the express sys- 
tem was also introduced. It is somewhat 
singular, that with the breakdown of the old 
credit system and the adoption of the plan 
of making notes payable in New York, four 
important elements, liaving the higliest cen- 
tralizing tendencies, began to operate. These 
were, first, ocean navigation ; second, the 
more extended construction of railroads ; 
third, the invention and construction of tele- 
graphs — there are now 25,000 miles of wires, 
that liave cost over $2,000,000, consolidated 
in one company, and New York is the centre 
for the whole : and, fourth, the express system 
of intercourse. All these, centring in New 
York, came into active operation at the mo- 
ment when gold was discovered in California, 
to give them an extraordinary impetus. The 
express business is peculiarly American, and 
has grown with a vigor wliich places it among 
the most important trading facilities of the 
country. In the spring of 1839, a year after 
the arrival of the Sirius at New York, W. 
F. Ilarnden, then oiit of employ in Boston, 
was advised by his friends to get a valise and 
take small packages and parcels from his 
acquaintances in Boston to their correspond- 
ents in New York, and return with what 
they had to send, making a small charge for 
his services, lie did so, and discovered that 
a great public Avant was to be supplied. lie 
soon contracted with the railroad to send a 
car through with his goods, and witli busi- 
ness tact he opened offices, employed mes- 
sengers, pushing the business with American 
energy. In 1840 an opposition was started 
by Adams. In 1841 ncAv fields were explored 
by Ilarnden, who ran an express between 
Albany and Boston, and one between Albany 
and New York. Iloute after route was then 
o])ened to express agents, penetrating further 
and further, and multiplying their lines in 
the densely settled portions of the country; 
not only between cities, but between ditierent 
portions of the same city. In 1845, Buffalo 
was readied by Wells & Co. In 1849, the 
gold fever brought California within the 
scope of express operations, and from San 
Francisco as a centre, " pony " expresses ran 
to the diggings with great success, placing 
the .solitary miners of the Sierra Nevada in 
direct connection with the mint and with Wall 
street. As these busy agents continued to 



NEW YORK TELEGRAPH EXPRESS — GOLD. 



189 



increase, and lessen tlic difficulty of commu- 
nication, trade multiplied as a consequence. 
The tclcfxraph had also penetrated most 
direct routes between cities, and that instru- 
ment came in aid of the express, whicli 
executed an order transmitted by telejiraph. 
Insteail of waiting; the slow course of the 
post for a reply, tlie teleffraph £rave an in- 
stantaneous order for j^oods that the exjiress 
conveyed. Thus, the three months that 
would once have been consumed in cominj; 
from Cincinnati for floods and returninj;, was 
reduced to three days. All the cities of the 
union were broutrht within similar speaking 
<listance. In 1850 it was estimated that the 
expresses travcilled twenty thousand miles 
daily, in discharp;c of orders, and the service 
has since doul»led. Steam, the tclet^raph, 
and the express, had thus jijrcatly facilitated 
trade, by making the long semi-annual ex- 
peditions to the large cities, for the pur- 
chase of goods, unnecessary. The small 
dealers could now buy frequently in small 
parcels the goods they found most in demand, 
instead of buying a six months' stock, and 
taking the risk of the gooils being well se- 
lected for the market. This also brouglit 
with it another change. It had been the 
case, that most of the goods sent to America 
formerly were the surplus stock of the British 
manufacturers. That is, where patterns had 
been got up for the home consumption and 
the regular trade supplied, there would remain 
a stock that had become comparatively dead 
by age. This dead stock was " good enough 
for the American market," and was sent out 
almost for what it would bring, and being 
transported into the interior for six months' 
sales, became a sort of llobson's choice for 
the consumers. When, however, frequent 
arrivals of new goods came to be laid before 
the customers, they immediately displayed 
a taste and exercised a choice. Ill-assorted 
goods would now not sell at all. English 
refuse became of no value, because American 
taste was developing itself with considerable 
strength. The customer was no longer to 
take what was laid before him; but in order 
to sell, the dealer was now to exercise his 
sagacity as to what would please his taste 
in selecting it, and his judgment in buying it. 
The manufacturer of dry goods was obliged 
to follow in the same direction, and the em- 
ployment of designers became important. It 
was now that the sagacity and taste of the 
factory agents were felt to be an indispensa- 
ble element in the success of a concern. The 



production of a design was promptly followed 
by the judgment of the public, and manu- 
facturing became, as it were, one of the fine 
arts. 

The joint operation of these new agencies 
manifested itself in 1850, when the west had 
become enriched with the large sales it had 
made of its produce during the famine years, 
and the railroads and canals, then in opera- 
tion, had profited largely by the high freights 
and tolls paid by produce on its way to 
market. The gold of California was now in 
its turn adding a new stimulus to the busi- 
ness of the city. In 1852 the Michigan 
roads had opened through to Chicago, and 
New York was now, by rail, within thirty- 
six hours of that city. The projection and 
construction of railroads went on rapidly, 
constantly adding to the business of New 
York — the common centre, whence the 
means to build were drawn, and to wliich 
these means returned in the purchase of 
goods. The Crystal Palace, in 1853, drew 
great numbers of persons to the city, and 
gave a start to retail trade, wliich Ijad an 
important effect upon the value of real 
estate and the location of business. In the 
above table we find that the imports into 
the city from abroad rose fifty per cent, 
in the five years to 1855, and tlie total 
valuation two hundred millions. This valu- 
ation followed the changed location of busi- 
ness. In the speculative times of 18:30-7, 
the old Pearl street house, in Hanover srpiare, 
was the head(juarters of country dealers, and 
that square the centre of the dry goods trade, 
around which all others agglomerated. The 
great fire of December, 1835, by which the 
lower part of the city and a value of ^18, 000,- 
000 was destroyed, broke up the location, 
which, however, was speedily rcl )uilt, and,witll 
the rebuilding, the Merchants' Exchange was 
enlarged and reconstructed at an expense of 
$1,800,000. The usual fate overtook occu- 
piers in the inordinate demands of landlords, 
and the leading firms pushed across Wall 
street and made Pine and Cedar streets the 
great centre. Gradually firm after firm ven- 
tured upon Broadway, which, in 1845, was 
visited by afire that caused the rebuilding of 
the lower portion, no longer for dwellings, 
but for substantial stores. One firm went 
up to the corner of Rector street, one-<|uarter 
of a mile from the Battery, and took the site, 
long vacant, of the old Grace church, at a 
lease, "Too high up," said conservatism, 
as the crowd rushed by, and the great retail 



190 



LAND SETTLEMENT — INTERNAL TRADE. 



firm of Stewart & Co. took the old Wash- 
ington hotel at the corner of Chambers, and 
occupied the block with a marble store which 
then had no eciual in any city. Here import- 
ing and jobbing are carried on to the extent 
ot $.')0,000,00(i by one who, by his energy 
and enterprise, has increased a capital of a 
few hundreds to millions, and now employs 
twelve hundred and Hfty clerks and others. 
There were handsome stores before this was 
built, but this commenced the era of expen- 
sive structures. The demands of luxury 
have led to the erection, up town, of elegant 
trade palaces of iron, marble, and freestone, 
for the leading firms in the dry goods, jew- 
elry, clothing, porcelain, and other branches 
of trade ; while the wholesule dealers, invad- 
ing the old college groutid, have covered it 
with stores of great size and beauty. The 
centre of business which, thirty years sin;-e, 
was within a fourth of a mile of the Battery, 
is now two and a half miles distant, and the 
value of real estate has followed like a 
"ground swell," reaching incredible rates. 
A inarl)le store on Broailway was rented in 
18G0 for $:)0,000 per annum, and in 18(i7 
for $75,00(t. A lot on Broadway, near 
Broome, sold in 18-VJ at private sale for 
$I10,OiH); it had been bought at auction in 
1852 for $]5,(K)0. An elderly gentleman 
present remarked, " This lot was part of 
the old Colonel Bayard farm, and was given 
by the colonel to his barber for a hair-dress- 
ing bill. I have seen it sold four times, and 
each time people decided the buyer crazy to 
give such a prire." The Society Library 
lot, corner of Leonard and Broadway, sold 
with the bu Iding in 1849 for $60,0(10 ; alter 
the cosily stores erected on it were burned in 
1807, it was sold for SG.')O,O0O, and a build- 
ing co-ting about $1,100,000 erected on it. 
The " tential I'ark," to cover 84;> aci-es, 
was projected, and has since been prosecuted, 
at a cost of over $12,000,000, having em- 
ployed in the fourteen years, over 50,0o0 
men. 

The city has spread toward the upper 
wards through the agency of railroads, whi^h 
have enabled workmen and merchants to live 
further from their places of occupation. Tlie 
importance of consuming as little time as 
jjo.ssible ill ( o niiig from and going to occu 
pation, made it requisite formerly, that ])er- 
sons should live near their business. The 
old cities of Europe are thus built with nar- 
row streets and very high houses, to accom- 



modate many in a little space. Modern 
cities are built on a broader scale. Omni- 
busses first came into play to give a greater 
breadth to the dwellings of tlie people, and 
horse-railroads have still further expanded 
the ar(!a. Manhattan island fbrming a point 
at the Battery, runs nortlierly between the 
North and East rivers. From the park the 
city spreads in a fan-like form east and west, 
and from that point radiate twelve railroads, 
including the Ilarlem, which runs by the 
Fourth avenue to Albany. The eleven other 
roads run on as many routes, and caiTy their 
passeng(!rs from three to eight miles, retiu'n- 
ing with them to a common centre every 
morning to business. These eleven railroads 
cost about $12,r)00,000. In 18G9 they 
transported about 131,000,000 passengers. 
There are in New York city thirteen other 
railroads not having their terminus at the 
Park, which cost somewhat more than the 
eleven, and carry altogether nearly as many 
passengers. In Brooklyn there are thirty 
horse-rail loads which have cost nearly $25,- 
000,000, and carry about 150.000,000 pas- 
sengers. The telegraph also conies to jday 
an important part in tiie city business. Many 
large linns whose olficcs arc in the lower 
part of the city, and warehouses and manu- 
factories in the upper part, connect the two 
by telegraph, to transmit orders and for in- 
formation. All the police stations connect 
by telegraph to give alarms of robbery, and 
fire alarms are also conveyed by the saine 
means. The '' time ball " also operates by 
telegraph. On the top of the Custom House, 
sixty feet high, is a mast on which slides a 
black ball some twenty feet in diameter. 
This can be seen from any ])art of the 
bay. It is hoisted to the top of the pole, 
and is so arranged that the monuiut the 
sun reaches the zenith, by observaiion, at 
Albany, it is released by electricity and falls, 
marking twelve o'clock, by which every 
ship master in the port may set his chrono- 
meter. 

All the railroads, continually running 
night and day, aided by six stage routes, 
bring the business and working population 
to their occupations, and back at night ; yet 
all these routes are insufficient to transport 
the hundreds of thousands who need convey- 
ance, within a reasonable time, and new 
routes, eh;vated and viaduct, have been pro- 
jected, with cars drawn by steam power, to 
facilitate rapid transit. 




INTKUIUH OV A CAkl'Kr IIOLSE. 




. ^l.iui. jl V lJli\ OUOU> IIOLS.1.. 



NEW TORK TELKGKAPU EX TRESS — GOLD. 



191 



The aggregate of passengers conveyed 
each year by the raih-oads and stages in New 
York and Brooklyn, is about ten times the 
population of the United States ; tlie greater 
number going to and coming from their busi- 
ness by these conveyances every working 
day. Tliis facility of transit allows business 
men to concentrate their stores and ware- 
houses around certain points, thus atfording 
better opportunities for purchasers froui dis- 
tant cities and villages to purchase their 
stocks without spending much time in going 
from one warehouse to another to select the 
great variety of goods which go to make up 
a general assortment. The importers, job- 
bers, and large dealers reside, of course, at a 
distance from their warehouses, but they are 
brought promptly and readily to them by 
cars, stages, or steamers. Yet these centres 
of trade change materially every four or 
five years. Tlie jobbing and importing trade 
in all articles pertaining to a dry goods stock, 
are none oi' them below the Park, and are 
rapidly concentrating above Canal street, 
while the retailers of the first class are erect- 
ing their magnificent stores in the neighl)or- 
hood of Union Park. Ten or twelve years 
ago Lord & Taylor's fine store on the corner 
of Grand street and Broadway, was regarded 
as very far up-town for a retail establish- 
ment. That, as well as Arnold & Consta- 
ble's on Canal street, and Stew^art's on the 
corner of Broadway and Chambers street, 
have now been for some time wholesale 
stores exclusively. The change is a very 
great one from the time when even large 
dealers lived in the dwelling houses over 
their stores and boarded their clerks. 

Perhaps the greatest difi^erence which 
purchasers who come to the New York mar- 
ket are ctlled to observe, is in the division 
of the goods. Formerly a dry goods jobber 
kept a lull assortment of every thing in his 
line, and it recpiired no little tact and exer- 
cise of memory to keep each line full. Now, 
one house conlines it-elf to woolens, another 
to cottons, another to silks, and yet anothf^r 
to fancy articles ; and even these are sub- 
divided, as in woolens one will keep tailors' 
goods, another dress goods and women's 
wear ; in cottons, one confines himself to 
prints, aiother to the plain goods ; in silks, 
we have establishments for piece goods, and 
others for ribbons and smaller arti(des. The 
tendency is to a still more minute division, 
and thus we have a dealer in hosiery, a 



dealer in lace, a dealer in perfumery, a dealer 
in pocket handkerchiefs, a dealer in shawls, 
and one house keeps nothing but suspenders ! 
Thirty years since the manufacture of cloth- 
ing became a separate business, and it has 
since subdivided into many branches. There 
are now establishments ex(;hisively for the 
sale of spool cotton, and others for braids 
and bindings, and others still for buttons, for 
fringes, and for Berlin wool. We are not 
prepared to say that the division of goods 
here noticed may not be a positive conveni- 
ence, although it certainly increases the la- 
bor of the purchaser. It has led to greater 
method in the purchase of goods, and buyers 
are now provided with catalogues of goods in 
each department, so arranged as to make 
purchasing much easier. Buyers now make 
a corresponding division also of their time, 
and one day is set a{)art for woolens, another 
for silks, and so on through the whole cata- 
logue. Could some staid customer of the 
last century, awaking from a Rip Van Win- 
kle sleep, be set down at this day in some of 
our thronged thoroughfares, he would get 
sorely jostled and foot weary before he liad 
made a black cross against all the articles 
upon his memorandum. 

The supplies of goods for the country 
dealers are derived from various sources ; 
small wares from city manufacturers ; do- 
mestics from the mdls or agents ; foreign 
goods from importers or agents of foreign 
manufacturers. The local manufactures are 
generally purchased by the jobbers to make 
good their assortments, as is also the case 
with hardware, and most articles of domestic 
manufacture, exce])t the proiluctions of the 
large mills, which have agents in the city for 
their special sale. 

It Avas formerly the custom for all parties, 
manuf icturers, importers, jobbers, and houses 
jobbing in the small way, as well as retailers, 
to give long credits, six, eight, and tw^elve 
months, and the jol)bers often sold for open 
notes, which were frequently renewed wholly 
or in part when they came due. The panic 
of 1857, and the hard times of 18GI, put an 
end to most of this. Four months is now 
generally the longest limit, and many of the 
best houses sell only on thirty or sixty days 
time, or for cash only. Custom is now 
sought in the country by means of agents, 
instead of by the old system of drummers. 
Sellers depend largely upon the mercantile 
agencies for information in relation to the 



192 



LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TKADE. 



liability of the buyer. These agencies have 
nmiifications in every town of the country, 
but their usefulness is not what was at one 
time expected from them. The grocers 
who sell sugar, etc., do so generally at from 
ten to sixty days, and get their money before 
the dry goods people, who also come after 
the hardware and earthenware dealers. The 
supply of capital in the city, under these 
circumstances, brings to it the largest assort- 
ment of goods, and of course it is the best 
])oint at which to buy, the more so that at 
times there is an over- supply of goods, which 
being worked off at auction, realizes a loss 
sometimes of 25 to 30 per cent, to the im- 
porter and foreign owner, and of course to 
the advantage of the country buyer. The 



general attractions offered to buyers make it 
to the advantage of sellers elsewhere to send 
their merchandise to New York to meet the 
purchasers. Boston made, recently, an at- 
tempt to break up this, by establishing sales 
of her manufactures there, instead of sending 
them to New York. The force of centrali- 
zation is, however, difficult to overcome, and 
the imports at New York show an increas- 
ing share of the arrivals into the whole 
country. Thus, in 1870, New York im- 
ported $315,200,022 out of an aggregate of 
$402,377,587 ; in 1840, $60,OUO,000 out of 
an aggregate of $121,000,000. The propor- 
tionate imports at the Atlantic ports are as 
follows : — 



1511'OKTS OF CEUTAIX GOODS INTO THE LEADING ATLANTIC PORTS, AND ALSO THE TOTAL IMPORTS INTO 

THE UNION IN 1870. 



Boston. 

$13,026 

20,876 

1,302 

5,581 



Gold Bullion 

" coin 

Silver bullion 

" coin 

Coffee 1,210,044 

Tea 848,369 

Liuseed 1,140,091 

Guano 

Wool, raw and fleece. . 2,303,687 

Wool, shoddy, 

Watches 117,651 

Coal, hituminous 222,848 

Woolens 4,113,117 

Cotton hose, 31,547 

" floods 775,651 

Steel, bar and ingot. . . 572,338 

Silks 882,661 

Linen 1,704,048 

Gloves 229,580 

Window glass £32,938 

Gunny bags and cloth. 133,288 

Iron, bar 1,555,501 

" pig 326,835 

" railroad 316,742 

Cutlery and tiles. .... 114,208 

Jute 157,635 

Leather 19,173 

Hides 3,131,711 

Molasses 1,912,447 

Sugar 7,731,049 

Other articles 1,867,308 



Philadelphia. Baltimore. New Orleans. 



17,586 



193,761 
106 



35,342 
33,669 



332 
40,839 

21,648* 

232,241 

330 

8,413 

1*5,434 

214,439 

221,709 

113,788 

15,671 

273 

8,534 

2,981,538 

5,556,549 

523,154 



6,409,818 

882 



618,422 
25,763 



12,311 



271,123 

100,411 
73,297 
41,967 

108,045 
61,868 
19,938 
14,038 
2,064 
7,155 
74,083 

292,623 
26,169 

"*"l7',683 
306,877 
782,566 

7,795,164 
301,221 



84,446 

500 

531,337 

2,283,647 

6,168 



5,003 



13,156 

1,164 

290,846 

61,690 

1,354,439 

15,233 

129,306 

340,097 

22,881 

34,002 

2,538 

73,777 

214,868 

2,099,567 

144,579 

4,078 

132,251 

1,721 

263,090 

1,787,030 

499,929 



New York. Tot 

92,159 

9,514,749 

40,636 

3,293,649 

12,578,223 

12,206,109 

2,886,860 

734,726 

3,497,254 

53,412 

2,830,692 

276,230 

28,569,889 

4,388,551 

15,849,392 

1,322,492 

22,168,766 

14,316,599 

3,059,987 

1,575,949 

133,961 

855,099 

874,267 

4,858,971 

1,824,016 

1,537,422 

5,458,624 

9,999,971 

4,635,966 

30,.301,742 

9,041,854 



'1 into tfnion. 

680,760 

11,376,190 

162,432 

14,199,797 

24,234,879 

13,863,273 

4,141,304 

1,415,519 

6,743,350 

55,609 

3,021,875 

1,110316 

34,435,059 

4,734,475 

18,645,578 

2,342,408 

23,904,048 

16,8.59,124 

3,405,966 

2,322,504 

291,218 

3,156,236 

2,509,280 

9,669,571 

2,248,819 

1,799,928 

5,728,028 

14,402,339 

12,888,250 

56,939,034 

15,583,831 



Total $31,731,152 810,235,356 S17,195,890 $10,367,943 $208,778,188 $311,871,006 



The aggregate imports at these five ports 
of these items, are $278,308,529, which 
leaves $33,562,477 of these goods as the 



imports of all the other ports. The im- 
ports of coffee at New Orleans from Bra- 
zil, to go up the river, are large ; and at 



NEW YORK TELEGRAPH EXPRESS GOLD. 



193 



Boston, coffee and hides, from the same 
source, fiijure hi<ih. But both Baltimore 
and rhihidelphia receive much coffee direct ; 
in fact, that is the lari^est item of import at 
those two cities. Boston imports many ma- 
terials fur her manufacture — linseed, wool, 
jute, hides, etc. Piiiladelpliia also imports 
some of these. The jjreat mass of the 
goods, for the consumption of the interior, 
passes into the port of New York. It is to he 
borne in mind, however, that many of the 
importations at New York are really foi 
Philadelphia, Albany, and other cities, even 
western ones. Tiiey are entered at the 
custom-house by a broker, who pays the duty 
and forwards them by express to their desti- 
nation, for a small commission. The express, 
the rails, and the telegraph, facilitate such 
operations. 

The gold and silver imported at New York 
are from various sources, but in the last few 
years have consisted mostly of doubloons and 
Spanish gold from Europe, to re-export to 
Havana for the purchase of the sugar crop. 
In 1857, that movement was very large, early 
in the year, to the island, and subsequently, 
when the stock of sugar accumulated very 
largely in New York, the gold came back from 
Havana to prevent it from being sacrificed. 
The bulk of the gold that forms the amount 
exported, is direct from California, and has 
been annually since the discovery, in sums 
of nearly fifty millions. 

The gold extracted from the earth by the 
miners of California has a considerable degree 
of purity, and before retining establishments 
were set up in the state, sold at from $16 to 
$20 per ounce. Much was used as a currency. 
It was carried in little leather pouches, and 
weighed out to shopmen in exchange for 
goods. A large portion of it was carried to 
New York, in the pockets of home-bound 
adventurers, and sold in New York at such 
rates as were possible. The buyers mostly 
had it sent to Philadclphi;i, by express, at an 
expense of 3-8 per cent. It was then assayed 
and coined at the public mint, and the pro- 
ceeds returned to the owner. This expensive 
and round-about process led to the establish- 
ment of a mint in San Francisco and an assay 
office in New York, where the miners them- 
selves could deposit the dust and get the full 
value in return. When the dust is deposited, 
a certificate of weight is given and the gold 
in bars returned. There are a number of 
private assaying houses in San Francisco, 
where the dust is cast into bars of large size. 
12* 



Most of these are connected with banking 
houses, and the bars are the basis of ex- 
change. The express companies deal in this 
gold. The miner now haviuir a lot of dust, 
sells it to an express agent, or sends it down 
to a banker in San Francisco, who has it 
assayed and cast into bars. The value is 
credited to the depositor, less the conmiis- 
sions. The bars are mostly shipped to New 
York, and the bankers draw bills against 
them in favor of those who have remittances 
to nuike to the bank. The competition 
among the bankers reduces the rate at which 
these bills can be sold to a point that leaves 
apparently no profit, and it is charged in 
some cases that they draw at a loss, in the 
view of monopolizing the business. The re- 
fining leaves a small profit. The cost of 
sliipping the gold to New York may be thus 
stated : freight, etc., $1 57 ; state stamp on 
bill, 20 cents; insurance, $1 50 — making 
$3 27 on $100. But the insurer gets from 
the Mutual companies scrip, worth on an 
average 35 cts., which reduces the cost to 
$2 92. The bars sometimes command a 
higher price in New York than in San Fran- 
cisco. Thus, a bar of 100 ounces, 880 fine, 
is at this moment worth ^;a?- in San Fran- 
cisco, and 900 fine it is worth 87^ cts. pre- 
mium in New York. This price has reference 
to the gold only of the bar. There is some 
silver in each. Thus, in the bar 880 fine 
there is 88 ounces of gold, 1 H of silver, and 
1-2 oz. copper. In the other, 90 oz. gold, 9 
1-2 silver, and a half copper. This makes 
the gold worthi per cent, more in New York 
than in San Francisco, and reduces the cost 
of the bill to $1 92 per cent. It is evident 
that he who sells his bills at 2 per cent,, 
makes but 8-10 of 1 per cent, or, including 
other items, a small loss. If the house feels 
strong enough to insure itself, it saves 
the insurance; but this must be more or less 
a risk to those who take the bills. Thus 
the operation is one of mere cost of ship- 
ment of the gold ; but the control of so 
much gold on paper issued is an object with 
large firms. The higher value of gold at 
New York arises from the fact that it is the 
financial centre of the Union. The ex- 
changes of the country with Europe and 
with the interior of the states turn there. 
The south ships its cotton, and tobacco, and 
rice ; the west its produce ; and the At- 
lantic states their manufactures. These, as 
we have seen, give an aggregate value of over 
§300,000,000 sent abroad ^iu a year. The 



194 



LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 



shippers of these goods draw bills against 
them, and offer them for sale. The market 
of sale must be where the greatest demand 
for them for remittance exists. New York 
imports two-thirds of all the goods received 
into the country, consequently the demand 
is there the greatest for the bills, and they are 
sent there for sale. It happens that the great 
majority of bill-drawers are unknown to the 
buyers, hence there is hesitation in taking 
their bills. To obviate this, a number of large 
banking-houses connected abroad, and having 
great capital, buy the bills that have " bills 
lading' attached, and the goods are sent to 
their correspondents abroad. In the seasons 
of the year when shipments are most active, 
these bills are plenty and low. They are 
then purchased and endorsed, and sold with 
the endorsement at a higher rate when the 
season advances and the cotton-bills run 
short. If the demand is active, and the rate 
of money higher here than abroad, the bank- 
ers draw on their own resources, and lend 
them the proceeds of the bills they sell on 
stocks or other securities. They are also the 
buyers of the gold bars as they arrive from 
California, and pay such rates as the demand 
for exchange, or the rate of money, or the 
price of gold on the continent, present or 
prospective, will warrant. A demand for 
silver to go to Asia, causes a demand for gold 
with which to buy it on the continent, and 
this demand draws upon New York, and in- 
directly upon the whole country. It is ob- 
vious that the bill business is thus mostly in 
the hands of large bankers. This grows out 
of the fact that there is abroad no market 
for bills on New York. Thus, the New York 
importer of goods, in order to pay for them, 
buys a bill on ships' specie, instead of order- 
ing his creditor abroad to draw upon him, 
which would be done if a bill on New York 
were saleable in the London market. It is 
understood, that when such amounts of bills 
from the south and elsewhere are sent to 
New York for sale, the proceeds of those 
sales form a large fund due by New York to 
those sections. These funds are deposited 
in the New York banks, and by them em- 
ployed in loans upon stocks, or in such other 
ways as will pay an interest. Thus the 
whole country contributes to the supply of 
capital at that common centre. The New 
York banks, some fifteen years since, in 
order to encourage that centralization, allow- 
ed interest of 4 per cent, on the funds so 
deposited. This caused a greater sum to be 



so employed, and imposed on the banks the 
necessity of lending it, in order to make a 
profit. The amount of funds lying in New 
York varies from ^50,000,000 to $90,000, 
000, according to the season of the year. The 
banks in all sections of the country that have 
such funds in New York do not draw against 
it directly in favor of those who want to re- 
mit to New York, but they use the funds to 
buy up their own or other paper cheap. 
The eflect is to swell the supply of funds in 
New York, and at times foster speculation 
there. 

The funds that accumulate in New York, 
make it also the mart for stock operations ; 
and these are very large, as well for regular 
investments, as for merely gambling opera- 
tions. 

With the creation of any commodity 
whatever, there springs up almost simul- 
taneously a class of persons to deal in it, and 
to appropriate more or less capital to its 
prosecution. This capital is most generally 
applied to the purchasing of it when it is 
thought to be cheap, in order to hold it un- 
til it can be disposed of to better advantage, 
or in advancing money to the needy seller. 
The persons so engaged, by devoting their 
time and attention to the subject of their 
traffic, reduce it to science, and soon deter- 
mine and classify the kinds and qualities 
adapted to the markets and wants of the 
public. The dealing in stocks is compara- 
tively of modern origin, and commenced with 
the credit system of the Euro2")ean govern- 
ments, at the close of the seventeenth cen- 
tury, when William of Orange avoided the 
dangers that beset the throne of the Stuarts, 
by borrowing money instead of extorting it 
by illegal taxation like Charles I., or steal- 
ing it like Charles II. The moment that 
government stocks — or certificates of debt 
issued to the government creditors — made 
their appearance, they became subjects of 
traffic, and with the certificates of stock in 
corporate companies, formed the material for 
speculation, and the exchange markets, 
where the surplus wealth of communities 
seek investment, became the theatre for 
operations in securities. The American 
colonics had no stock debts or corporate 
companies, since little surplus capital existed 
for such investments. The paper money 
that they issued, however, afforded by its 
fluctuation n)any opportunities of jobbing at 
the expense of the public. When the rev o-^ 
lutionary war broke out, the continental 



NEW YORK TELEGRAPH EXPRESS GOLD. 



195 



money of the federal governiMcnt gave a 
larger field for these operations, which were 
based mostly on the rapid depreciation of 
their value. Thus, a person would borrow a 
sum, returnable in the same description in a 
fixed time. Its value in that time having 
fallen, he could return it at a profit. Sup- 
posing the money to be par, a person would 
pledge a bag of §(1,000 for paper; a fall of 
eight or ten per cent, in sixty days would 
enable him to redeem his dollars with §100 
profit. In the time of the revolution, a 
sta<xe driver, having a talent that way, made 
money in the tratlic, and subsecjuently be- 
came the head of the largest bank and stock 
house of his time in New York, ending a 
long and respected life by suicide. Tins 
paper soon perished, and was succeeded by 
the government stock, representing the pub- 
lic debt. This was soon accompanied by 
United States and other bank stock, insu- 
rance, canal, mining, railroad, etc., to an 
immense amount. Up to 1825 the majority 
of the stocks were banks and insurance, but 
there was no regular stock market. There 
were brokers who bought and sold stocks, 
but there was no concentration of operations. 
In that year the legislature of New York 
authorized the New York stock board, which 
has since continued to be the stock market. 
Within the last twenty years, boards of bro- 
kers have been started in most of our large 
cities. Their operations are, however, to 
a very great extent, based upon those of 
New York, with which they communicate by 
telegraph. The board of brokers sits with 
closeil doors from 10 1-2 A. M. to 12 M. ; 
an irregular session is held about 2 1-2 P. M. 
There is a president, a treasurer, and a 
secretary ; the latter keeps a list of all the 
stocks dealt in in the market ; the members 
are admitted by ballot after notice of nomi- 
nation by one of the board. lie must have 
been at least a year a broker, and on his 
admission pays a fee of 8450. When the 
members are assembled, the president pro- 
ceeds to call the list, and as each stock is 
named in succession, those who have orders 
to buy or sell make their otl'ers, and the 
transactions arc recorded, when they become 
binding upon the members. If any of these 
defaults he loses his seat until he can pay or 
arrange the claim. The theory of the board 
is that it is the reservoir where all stocks 
held by the public are brought for sale, and 
where all buyers come, through brokers, to 
purchase. The number of brokers is some 



850, and the commission charged is a quar- 
ter of one per cent., that is to say $25 on 
$10,000. The board requires each member 
to charge not less than a quarter, but as 
most of them sell again ft)r their customers for 
nothing, the charge is practically onc-eiLi,-hth. 
The quantities of stocks to be dealt in 
have rapidly increased of late years. A 
late report of the Secretary of the Treasurv 
gives an approximation of the amount of 
stocks now in the country ; to that return 
we have prefixed the amount of the same at 
a previous date : — 

1S40. 1871. 

tinited Statps stocks and bonds. .«2r,,00n.rino $1,0".'), lino ,000 

Stat« stocks 174. Him; ,997 4'J."i , 1 .'i2 '425 

113 cities" Sc towns' stk's fc b'lls. 1.3,1(17 ,i"K) 312,000,0(10 

3.')0 counties' stocks and bonds. . l/iOO.noO 12.5,000,000 

1715 national bank stocks 290,772,091 4oil,47.s|311 

State Banks 92,000 000 

150 insurance stocks 40,101,000 100,000^000 

Railroad stocks 45,102,208 1 rifi,ooO,000 

" bonds 40,897,792 1, 220. (W), 000 

15canal and navifration stocks.. 31,219,911 48.000.(00 

" " bonds. . 19,207,101 4(1,400,0*^00 

45 mining and other co's stocks. . 10,101,201 lS.^,0OO,(i00 

" " bonds.. 1,000,000 7,800,000 

SG92,915,301 §6,032,810,736 

Tliis vast increase of stocks is manipulated 
mostly upon the New York stock board, and 
the stocks are to a considerable extent 
caused to float by the sums sent to brokers 
by their correspondents in the country and 
neighboring cities, with which to " operate." 
The speculative transactions far exceed those 
of other kinds. The actual investments of 
capital are not large at the board. Those who 
take stocks for income do so of the issuers 
when the proposals arc put out, and they 
hold them like the United States and state 
stocks, which rarely come on the stock ex- 
change. The mass of the transactions then 
are of non-dividend paying stocks, that arc 
the foot-ball of speculation, and so pay the 
operators profits. The brokers are mostly 
cliques of operators, who, when the market 
is dull and prices are low, combine, as "bulls," 
to purchase, producing a rapid rise, in the 
hope, seldom disappointed, that the spec- 
ulative community will be tempted by that 
rise to come in and buy ; as they do so the 
brokers unload themselves upon the buyers, 
and then become " bears," ccmibining to de- 
press the market, and to compel a fall at least 
equal to the rise, skinning the outsiders in 
the process. The speculators generally buy 
on time, that i.s to j^ay for the stock at their 
option, any day within thirty or sixty, as the 
case may be. In this way the buyer ])ays 
interest on the purchases. He may also sell 
to deliver at any day he pleases within a 
specified time, or " seller's ontion," or to 



190 



LAND SETTLEMENT INTERNAL TRADE. 



deliver at the " buyer's option ;" lie may 
borrow stock and sell it in the hope of buy- 
ing it back cheaper on delivery ; he may 
buy a privilege to deliver a stock at a certain 
price at a specified time, or not, as it suits 
him ; or he may sell or buy a privilege of 
taking and paying for a stock or not as it 
suits him ; he may buy cash stock and sell 
on time. To produce a fall, cliques will sell 
for cash all the stock they have or can bor- 
row, and then offer time contracts without 
limit, until other holders are frightened and 
sell. Confederates keeping up a clamor to 
alarm the public at such times, all oflers to 
buy are smothered, and orders to purchase 
are suppressed. On the other hand, a com- 
bination for a rise is accompanied by the 
most astonishing prophecies of a " good 
time." Considerable quantities are bought on 
time, the sellers hoping to get them cheaper. 
Meanwhile the cash stock is bought up and 
pledged for more money to repeat the opera- 
tion ; the demand for the stock bought on 
time runs up the rate, and the public arc 
expected to come in with sufficient strength 
to let the clique all sell out at a profit, when 
they will be ready for a bear operation. 
There are numberless modes of varying and 
combining speculative operations, Avhich 
would fill a volume. All these time operations 
were illegal until 1859, when they were all 
legalized, and a stock debt may now be col- 
lected like any other. 

The amount of the transactions is immense. 
In 1840, the agtjregate of sales for the month 
of June was $3,684,460; of this one-half was 
bank stock and one-half Delaware and Hud- 
son canal. In June, 1857, previous to the 
panic, the sales reached $250,000,000, mostly 
railroad stocks. In 1871 the sales for May 
were considerably over $600,000,000. lii 
a speculative year the stock transactions 
will run twenty-eight or thirty-eight thou- 
sand millions of dollars. Those trans- 
actions require a great deal of money to con- 
duct them, and these funds come to New 
York to a considerable extent from neigh- 
boring cities, as well as from the west. They 
also employ a large portion of the funds of 
the banks put out "at call," and also the 
proceeds of bills sold by large exchange 
houses. Thus we may suppose a house sells 
on the departure of a steam-packet $500,- 
000 of sterling bills. This money is paid 
into bank, and is loaned out on stock secu- 
rities at 7 per cent, on call, until, by a suc- 
ceeding packet, it may be called in and re- 



mitted in gold to Europe. This operation, 
on a large scale, will induce the banks to 
call in their loans to protect their specie, 
and the value of money will rise in the 
market. The rule in stock speculation is 
loss, and the experience of the most fortu- 
nate dealers is that the interest and com- 
missions absorb the whole average profits. 
The funds sent to New York, therefore, for 
stock-dealing, only contribute to the central 
profits. 

If we were to throw into a tabular form 
the new agencies of business centring in New 
York, we should have results as follows : — 

Cogt. 

Ocean navigation, 15 lines, 135 ships, $96,000,000 

Telegraphs 60,000 miles, 44,063,000 

Express companies. .. 112,000 " 45,000,000 

Railroads 30,000 " 1,128,000,000 

City railroads 55 •' 23,000,000 

Cauals 59,000,000 

$1,395,063,000 

The number of strangers that are drawn 
to the city in a year by ocean steamers is 
nearly 300,000, and they fill the hotels that 
have of late taken such sftlendid proportions, 
and have been carried up to Thirty -first street 
and Broadway, a distance of three and a half 
miles from the old business centre. The 
march of hotels up-town has been steady. 
The Astor House was, in 1833, the up-town 
house. From the Astor House to Chambers 
street was a long remove, in 1840. In 1852 
the St. Nicholas advanced a mile to Spring 
street, and became not only the up-town, but 
the "upper-crust" of all hotels. In 1854, 
Niblo's Garden, on Prince street, was occu- 
pied by the Metropolitan; and, soon fol- 
lowing, the Everett House, taking ground a 
mile higher, opened on Sixteenth street; and 
in 1859, superior in distance, size, magnifi- 
cence, and expense, the Fifih Avenue Hotel 
opened on 2'Sd street. The Southern, the 
Grand Central, the Hoffman, the St. James, 
and a score of others have since been added, 
besides the family hotels, like tlie New York, 
St. Denis, Clarendon, St. Germain, Spingler, 
Sturtevaut, Prescott, etc. Extravagance 
is only an allurement. Indeed, the hotel- 
keepers seem to have followed the advice of 
Boy den, when he first gave popularity to 
the Astor. His cracker-baker complained 
that the waiters were inattentive: "Kill ine 
two of them, and put it in your bill," he 
briskly replied. And to his partner, who 
spoke of the exactions of guests, he replied, 
" Furnish a gold-dust pudding, with diamond 



KEW YORK TELEGRAPH EXPRESS GOLD. 



197 



plums, if they require, but charge accord- 
ingly." That is the secret of hotel-keep- 
ing in New York — let nothing be wanting, 
not even a sufhcient charge. Immense waste, 
no doubt, attends the system, but it attracts. 
The splenditl arrangements tempt many city 
families to take up their abode in them; and 
a small family, even at §3.50 per day per head, 
do better than to pay the extravagant rents 
demanded for fashionable houses, with the at- 
tendant expenses. That these things are not 
done cheaply, the bill of $91,000, presented 
to the city of New York by the Metropolitan 
Hotel for the entertainment of the Japanese 
ambassadors, is ample evidence. The nu- 
merous visitors to New York from tlie south 
and west, as well as the constant current of 
traders, better class of emigrants, and Cali- 
fornia passengers, fill the hotels of the lower 
parts of the city; and the whole mass, by 
their purchases for personal use, make an 
important part of the city retail trade, of 
which Broadway is the main locality. The 
records of arrivals show the average number 
per day at all the hotels is not far from 
3,000, or the immense number of $1,095,000 
per annum. This, at an average of $3, gives 
$3,285,000 for hotel bills alone, but all the 
expenses cannot be estimated under $12,000, 
000. The facilities of railroads and ferries 
also induce a great deal of trade from sur- 
rounding cities and towns within a reason- 
able distance. Within an area of fifty miles 
there are few Avho do not do their shopping 
in New York, and very many of the small 
local shops send daily messages to the city 
to complete orders they may have received. 
On the other hand, a large quantity of manu- 
factures that .Avcre formerly confined to the 
city arc now sent long distances into the 
country, particularly in the winter, where they 
are done cheaply by those who are not de- 
pendent upon them for a living. The large 
circle of country thus loses its rural charac- 
ter, and partakes of the metropolitan nature. 
It follows that, as city localities become 
known for,4)articular business, and visitors 
seek them lotrade, all of that class of deal- 
ers seek business places there, and thus con- 
centrate the business. The fixed population 
of the city is given by the census at 942,338, 
and, with the neighborhood more or less 
connected, the wants of 3,000,000 require 
to be met from the retail stores of the cities, 
in addition to the crowds of visitors from 



abroad. Tlic retail trade is therefore a very 
important one, and its vigor, apart from the 
purchases of visitors, depends in some degree 
upon the cheapness uf food. ^Vhere immi- 
gration has reached over 1,000 souls per 
day, composed of persons skilled in almost 
all employments, and all eager to obtain 
work, competing with those in the city who 
live by their occupation, and with those in 
the country, who are, so to speak, amateurs, 
it is evident the wages cannot be extravagant, 
and the amount that can be spared from 
them, after deducting house-rent and food, 
is not nmch in the average. Food is, how- 
ever, the important item. When that is 
cheap, trade is more active. An indication 
may be aftbrded in flour. The quantity used 
in New York is 2,400,000 bbls. per annum. 
In some years the price has been as low as §4, 
in others as high as '^15. The difference be- 
tween these sums is .^2(;, 400,000 in one year. 
The tax, in years of dear food, thus thrown 
upon the city is enormous. It fortunately 
happens, that in years of dear food the food- 
sellers make more purchases. The influence 
of such times is very perceptible in the 
operations of the pawid)roker, whose busi- 
ness it is to lend small sums on the pledge 
of almost any conceivable article that may 
be ottered. They charge 24 per cent, per 
annum, and the article, unredeemed at the 
end of a year, becomes forfeit by sale at 
auction. The amount of loans in one year 
was given at $3,000,000, and the number of 
pledges 4,875,000, which would give an 
average of about 68 cents each loan. 

While cheap food is an important item in 
the ability to purchase, yet employment is 
the main consideration, and this depends 
upon the prosperity of those sources on 
which the city depends for its business. 
These in the long run are progressive, not- 
withstanding the reactions that sometimes 
take place, and the ditlusi(^n of employments 
which machine inventions tend to bring 
about. 

The general prosperity of the whole country 
does not, however, depend upon any locality : 
all production and all business is constantly 
seeking the conditions under which it can 
best thrive. These cannot be dictated; but, 
being found, the general welfare is as a con- 
sequence the greater, and with the general 
prosperity the common centre must only 
become the more mairnificent. 



BAIKS m THE UNITED STATES. 



CHAPTER I. 

BILLS OF CREDIT— GOVERNMENT ISSUES- 
UNITED STATES BANK. 

The use of paper money is a modern in- 
vention, and may yet be considered but as 
an experiment, since, from its first emission 
in the colonies to the present day, paper 
money has constantly chano-ed its form and 
the conditions of its circulation. It is not to 
be inferred that paper money originated on 
this continent, since it was used long before 
in the countries of Europe. Its nature has, 
however, been more developed here, and 
every phase of it has had full scope of action. 
The circulating paper is of many forms, such 
as bills of exchange, promissory notes, gov- 
ernment bonds bearing interest, government 
bonds bearing no interest and not converti- 
ble into coin, but receivable for taxes and 
dues, and lastly, corporation or bank prom- 
ises to pay coin on demand. There arc many 
other descriptions of circulating paper, but 
these are the chief that are used. The last 
two are those which have figured most as 
money. The intention of paper money is to 
supply the place of coin where that article is 
not sufficiently abundant, as was eminently 
the case with the eai'ly colonies. The colo- 
nies were none of them rich, and had not 
been able to import and keep as much of the 
precious metals as would serve for a currency, 
that being as much an instrument of com- 
merce as a road or a ship. In substituting 
paper for coin there is no difficulty as long 
as the quantity emitted docs not exceed the 
demands of business for a currency. If there is 
no trade — that is, if no one wants to exchange 
his commodities for others — there is no want 
of currency. As the desire to trade increases, 
a want of money to represent commodities 
is experienced, and the want is proportioned 
to the numbers, wealth, and activity of the 
traders up to a certain point; because when 
trade is very active, money itself changes 
hands rapidly and performs more transfers 



than when it is sluggish. There must be, 
however, great confidence in the value of the 
money, because doubt in that respect in- 
stantly checks traffic. The early colonists 
were in that position. They had commodi- 
ties which they had raised and made, but 
they had no currency, or not enough. In 
this position, in 1690, it became necessary for 
Massachusetts to send a military expedition 
to Quebec to drive the French out of Canada. 
The expedition failed, and the troops came 
back clamorous for pay. The colony had no 
money to pay with, and it adopted the expe- 
dient of issuing promises in convenient 
amounts. The faith of the colony was 
pledged for the payment of these, and they 
would be received for taxes and dues. It 
will be observed, that these bore no interest, 
and were not convertible into coin. They 
were, in fact, mere orders of the government 
upon farmers and others for food, clothing, 
etc., in favor of the soldiers, to be called in 
by taxes, not to be paid in money. The 
paper was worth nothing to export. Its only 
value consisted in its being good to pay taxes 
with. It is at once obvious that no man 
wanted more than would suffice for that pur- 
pose. Tlie aggregate amount that could be 
issued was then measured by the sum of the 
taxes. In order to increase the amount, the 
colonial government made it a legal tender, 
that is, compelled creditors to take it for pri- 
vate debts. This was so palpably unjust, and 
was productive of so many evils, tliat the 
home government suppressed it. Neverthe- 
less, the same necessities produced similar 
devices, and other colonics followed the ex- 
ample of Massachusetts with similar results. 
In 1745, Massachusetts, to defray the ex- 
pense of an expedition to Louisburg, again 
issued bills of credit to the extent of 
£3,000,000. This paper speedily deprecia- 
ted to 11 for 1: that is, £1 in silver was 
worth £11 in those bills. The English gov- 
ernment then sent out £180,000 in silver, to 
pay the cost of the expedition, and with this 



BILLS OF CREDIT GOVERNMENT ISSUES UNITED STATES BANK. 



199 



the thrifty colony bought up its own paper 
at 11 for 1. New York, during the period 
1709 to 1786, made thirty-four issues of bills 
of credit, aniountiug in the aggregate to 
£1,503,407, and the depreciation was about 
2 to 1 ; in other colonies much more. The 
evils attending these issues were very great, 
but the cause eontiiuied to operate, and when 
the war broke out in 1775, the Congress of 
the Confederation was forced upon the issue 
of 83,000,000 worth of " continental money," 
as distinguished from the state issues; and 
to give these issues some firmness, they matle 
them a legal temler. This supply of paper, 
in addition to the colonial emissions, in- 
creased the difficulties, and some of the colo- 
nies went a step further and made personal 
■property a legal tender, according to apprais- 
als to be made for the purpose. Notwith- 
standing the general discredit, Congress was 
obliged to push the issues. In 1779 the 
amount outstanding was $160,000,000, and 
by 1780 it reached" $200,000,000, when the 
value fell so fast that before the end of the 
year the bills ceased to circulate. There are 
those still living who remember giving 8100 
for "a cake of gingerbread," or $10,000 for 
a hat cocked in the fashion of the day. 
The whole amount issued by Congress was 
$359,450,000, and on the formation of the 
new government they were purchased at the 
rate of 1 cent for %\. The state issues met 
with similar fate. The entire absence of 
money thus brought about, with the attend- 
ant evils, mainly induced the adoption of the 
federal constitution, which at once prohib- 
ited the states from ever again issuing "bills 
of credit," or making " any thing but gold 
and silver a tender for the payment of debts." 
That is, those prohibitions are a record of 
the experience derived from the colonial ex- 
periments in paper money. 

The condemnation of "bills of credit" was 
a great good. The important question was, 
however, what to do next ; and this engaged 
all minds. Specie had vanished, and govern- 
ment paper money was dead. Mercantile 
sagacity liad, liowever, on the death of the 
continental money, devised a partial remedy 
in 1781. This consisted of the substitution 
of private corporate credit in place of gov- 
ernment credit, and took shape in the char- 
tering of the Bank of North America, at 
I'hiladclphia ; the Bank of New York, in 
the city of New York ; and the Bank of Mas- 
sachusetts, in Boston. 

It is an erroneous idea, that was enter- 



tained for a long time, that banks, by the 
issues of credit, create capital, and on this 
idea many new banks were started, impart- 
ing much activity to trade. The good 
ellects of their operation were due, however, 
rather to the concentration and application 
of capital to mercantile uses, than to an in- 
crease in the quantity of capital. Before the 
establishment of banks, individuals kept the 
money they received in their own houses, 
tempting robberies, and subjecting them- 
selves to loss of interest, and to risk and 
trouble in seeking snuiU investments. The 
shopkeeper and merchant who received 
money in the course of business in small 
sums, kept it by him until he made his 
wholesale purchases, when he paid it out 
altogether. The aggregate sum thus lying 
entirely idle was very large. On the estab- 
lishment of a bank, the owners of money 
deposited it in the vaults. The institution 
thus became the common receptacle for all 
idle funds. Inasmuch as that, although all 
the depositors were entitled to draw their 
money whenever they chose, yet but a small 
proportion did so, the banks might safely 
lend the money so deposited on notes at 
short dates, sixty to ninety days, and still 
have as much within their control as would 
meet the probable demand of the depositors 
for payment. It was necessary, however, 
that the notes discounted should be prompt- 
ly paid at maturity, in order that the bank, 
itself subject to be called upon to pay on 
demand, might have control of the means of 
payment. The discount of mercantile notes 
with two good endorsers then became the 
business of banks ; and we may here remark 
in passing, that this wrought a change in the 
mode of borrowing money in the communi- 
ty. Up to that period, good character, in- 
dustry, and sobriety were security for loans. 
An illustration of this is atfordcd in a be- 
quest of Dr. Franklin in trust to the city 
(then town) of Boston, of a sum of money 
from which young mechanics of the above 
characteristics were to be loaned two hun- 
dred dollars to start them in business. They 
were to repay the money with interest, and 
the sum, witli its accumulation, w*s to con- 
tinue a fund for the same purpose. The 
fund still continues to exist, but without 
accumulation. Under the newly established 
banking system, character was no longer an 
element of credit. A note with two good 
names became indispensable. The capitals 
of the banks were seldom ])aid in loanable 



200 



BANKS IN THE UNITED STATES. 



money. They were notes of the subscriber, 
or real estate, and were mostly designed to 
inspire confidence. A portion of it was req- 
uisite to be kept on hand in specie to meet 
the calls of depositors and note-holders. 
The banks, in order to increase their loan- 
able funds, were permitted to issue their own 
promises to pay specie on demand, these 
promises to circulate as money. The old 
colonial issues of credit bills did not pretend 
to be payable on demand, and the applica- 
tion of that principle, it was now supposed, 
would obviate the evils tliat had grown out 
of the old system. The bills were freely 
taken and circulated. The institutions were 
not limited in the amount that they might 
issue, and they increased the currency al- 
most at pleasure. It became obvious, how- 
ever, that if one bank issued a larger quan- 
tity in proportion than the other banks, its 
notes, paid into the rival institutions, would 
immediately be sent back to it for redemp- 
tion, and it would have to pay in specie the 
balance above what it held of their notes. 
Hence the laws of trade compelled each 
bank to keep its credits within a safe ratio 
to those of other institutions. This, how- 
ever, did not prevent all from increasing 
their issues to any extent as long as their 
mutual balances were adjusted. When, 
however, the whole of them increased their 
circulation, the mass of currency became 
cheap, a fact which manifests itself in a rise in 
prices of all commodities. The eft'ect of this 
IS, that the produce of the country ceases to 
be exported, because it is too high to pay a 
profit to the merchant, while, on the other 
hand, goods are imported to avail of the high 
prices. This state of affairs involves an ex- 
port of specie, which drains the banks, and 
forces back upon them their bills for re- 
demption. Hence, if the banks regulate 
each other by their balances, the foreign 
trade becomes the common regulator of all. 
Kept within a certain limit, governed by 
produce and business, the bank circulation 
IS useful. Although it does not in any de- 
gree create capital, it supplies the place of 
the precious metals as currency. If we sup- 
pose a miller wishes to purchase grain ; he 
gets a note or acceptance at sixty days, on 
New York, discounted at a local bank, 
which pays out to him circulating notes. 
AVith these he purchases wheat of the fanner, 
flours it, and forwards it to New York for 
sale, and the proceeds are applied to the 
taking up of his draft that the bank had dis- 



counted. In the mean time the farmer has 
paid away the notes he took for his wheat, 
probably to the storekeeper in discharge of 
his bill. The storekeeper has now to remit 
to New York to pay a note that falls due for 
merchandise previously purchased, and fur- 
nished to the farmer. To do so he goes to 
the bank, and buys of it the draft on New 
York that the institution had discoimted for 
the miller. This he remits to his merchant, 
who gets it paid from the proceeds of the 
flour. The transaction is thus closed, and 
by it farm produce has been got to market, 
and merchandise, in return, has passed from 
the manufacturer to the consumer, effecting 
an exchange of commodities without the use 
of any money at all. The notes that the 
bank put out on a draft, after performing 
the functions of money, returned to it in ex- 
change fur the draft, and all obligations 
were cancelled. This is the operation of 
paper when confined to actual business 
transactions. The number and kinds of 
these are almost infinite, but the principle is 
the same when the paper is only issued on 
actual commodities, the exchange of which 
cancels the obligations that grow out of 
them. There is, in this, no creation of capi- 
tal, only the facilitating the exchange of that 
already created. Under such circumstances, 
the quantity of currency rises and falls with 
the quantities of produce and merchandise. 
The moment the bank lends its notes to 
speculative operators, who seek to borrow 
capital itself, rather than credits with which 
to interchange capital, it becomes insolvent, 
because it lends what it has not got to spare. 
The early banks mostly confined themselves 
to sound rules, and with the rapid increase 
of business which followed the formation of 
the new- government, their business being 
profitable, stimulated the increase of institu- 
tions, mostly in New England, where com- 
merce was concentrated. The three origi- 
nal state banks were eminently success- 
ful, and they suggested a resource to the 
federal government. This was developed 
in the celebrated report of Alexander Ham- 
ilton, Secretary of the Treasury, in favor of 
a National Bank. The proposition at once 
called up the right of Congress to charter a 
bank under the constitution. After a warm 
congressional debate upon the subject. Presi- 
dent Washington demanded written opinions 
of his four cabinet officers. The Attorney 
General and the Secretary of State declared 
the bank unconstitutional. The Secretary 



w3- r /■!» V 




Bn.LS OF CREDIT GOVERNMENT ISSUES UNITED STATES BANK. 



201 



of War and the Secretary of tlic Treasury 
were of a contrary opinion, and the cclelira- 
ted paper of the latter upon the subject de- 
cided Washington, who sijjned the bill, and 
the bank went into operation with a capital 
of $!1 0,000,000, of wliich $_',000,000 was sub- 
scribed by the 1,'overiimcnt, and $8,000,000 
by individuals. Of this latter amount, 
6:^,000,000 was to be paid in specie and 
$0,000,000 in six per cent, stock of the 
United States. The charter was to continue 
until March 4, 1811. Immediately on the 
organization of the bank, the shares rose 25 
to 45 per cent, premium, and the institution 
paid 8 1-2 per cent, dividend. The creation 
of this bank was attended by tlie rapid mul- 
tiplication of banks in the various states, be- 
coming rivals to eacli other, and gTadually 
consolidating an interest which was strong 
enough in 1811, with other interests, to defeat 
the recharter of the Bank of the United 
States. The recharter was opposed on the 
grounds: 1st, that it was unconstitutional; 
2d, that too much of its stock was owned by 
foreigners ; 3d, that state banks were better. 
It is singular that at a time wlien capital 
was scarce in the country, objections should 
have been made to its coming in from abroad. 
Nevertlieless, the bank was closed, and on 
settlement paid $108 1-2 to each share of 
$100. From that date, gold and silver only 
were by law receivable for government dues. 
The winding up of the National Bank was the 
signal for creating state banks to fill the 
vacuum. The old bank and its business was 
purchased by Stephen Girard, who conducted 
with it a large private banking business with 
great success on a capital of $1,000,000. In 
four years, to 1815, 120 banks, with an ag- 
gregate capital of $40,000,000, went into 
operation. Pennsylvania alone, by act of 
March 21, 1814, created 41 banks. The 
amount of notes emitted by these institutions 
was never known with certainty, but was es- 
timated by Mr. Jefferson, in 1814, as high as 
$200,000,000. A large portion of these, in 
the middle states, were issued as loans to the 
government ; and the war pressure became 
such, that in September, 1814, all the banks 
out of New England stopped pitymeiit. The 
bills iinni(!(liat('iy depreciated 20 per cent, 
in Baltimore, an<l 15 per cent, in New York. 
The news of peace, in February 1815, caused 
some improvement, but in 1810 the difficul- 
ties were greater than ever. The discount 
in Baltimore was 20 per cent., Philadelphia 
17, New York 12 1-2. This kind of paper 



being the only currency, the government was 
compelled to take it for dues, in violation of 
law. This caused the greatest injustice, since 
the funds received in one place were more 
depreciated than in another, and New Eng- 
land, where the currency was sound, had 
great cause of complaint. In such a state of 
affjxirs, although the state banks had uuilti- 
plied to 240, with $89,822,422 capital, a new 
National Bank became inevitable, and Con- 
gress, by act of April, 1810, again cliartered 
a National Bank, which went into operation 
January 1817. Its charter was to last until 
March 4, 1830; its capital was $35,000,000, 
of which the United States subscribed 
$7,000,000 in a 5 per cent, stock, and the 
remaining $28,000,000 was to be subscribed 
by individuals — one-fourth in gold and silver 
and three-fourths in the funded debt of the 
United States. The debts of the bank, in 
excess of its deposits, were not to exceed 
$35,000,000. The bank was to pay a bonus 
of $1,500,000, and perform the money busi- 
ness of the government free of charge. In 
return it received the public funds on deposit, 
and nothing was to be taken for pubUc dues 
except specie, treasury notes, notes of specie 
paying banks, and the National Bank notes. 
When the bank went into operation it became 
necessary for the state banks to resume or 
wind up. Those of New York, Philadelphia, 
Baltimore, and Virginia resumed, and those 
which did not were gradually purged off. 
From 181 1 to 1830, 105 banks, with a capital 
of $30,000,000, closed business. The loss 
of the government by these was estimated at 
$1,390,707, and the public lost much larger 
sums. The bank, in the first few years of 
its operation, encountered many perils, grow- 
ing out of the foreign trade. Imports poured 
into the country iu prodigious amounts, and 
an active demand for silver sprung up for 
Europe and Asia. The institution had, how- 
ever, in the public stock and in its own stock, 
forming its caj)ital, the means of drawing 
specie from Europe, which it did to an ex- 
tent that subjected it to a loss of over half a 
million dollars. 

The institution was of much service to 
the government, and enjoyed great facilities 
from the use of the public funds. The prin- 
cipal bank was at I'hiladelphia, with branches 
in most of the large cities. This organiza- 
tion of the bank made it very powerful as a 
means of exchange, and this power was likely 
to grow with the increasing wealth of the 
country, up to the time when railroads and 



202 



BANKS IN THE UNITED STATES. 



telegraphs made communication more rapid. 
The power of the bank was based upon the 
federal finances, of which it was the agent, 
and it operated through the growing busi- 
ness of the country, which was conducted 
largely upon the credit system. As the 
country increased in prosperity, other banks, 
under state charters, sprung up, and these 
became the recipients of mercantile deposits, 
or, in other words, of the money wliich each 
merchant received in the course of his busi- 
ness, and also of private funds. The mer- 
chants who thus placed their funds with the 
banks were constantly debtors of the govern- 
ment for duties and taxes ; these they paid 
by checks on their respective banks. The 
United States Bank, being the common re- 
cipient of all these checks, was thus always 
the creditor of the local banks, and could 
always force them to contract their loans by 
compelling them to pay, or could permit 
them to increase their loans by being indul- 
gent in regard to balances. The govern- 
ment funds thus collected by the United 
States Bank were paid out by it wherever 
the government required. Thus the Boston 
and New York branches would collect the 
largest amounts, but the branches in Rich- 
mond and elsewhere, or the parent bank in 
Philadelphia, would pay the drafts of the 
government. In the first year of the old 
bank it received ^3,652,000 of the pub- 
lic money. As business prospered, the 
amount rose annually, until it reached 
$17,038,859 in 1808, before the embargo. 
Thus the receipts and payments on govern- 
ment account were thirty-four millions in a 
year, when the whole population was 
5,200,000 souls. The new bank in 1817 re- 
ceived 132,786,662 for accounts of the gov- 
ernment. The sum declined year by ye.nr 
to $21,347,000 in the year of crisis, 1825, 
and subsequently continued at about twenty- 
four millions per annum, until 1833, when 
the deposits were removed by the govern- 
ment. These large sums annually flowed in 
and flowed out of the bank on account of 
the government, and a large proportion of 
the payments were on account of the public 
debt. This reached $127,334,934 in 1816, 
and was by annual payments extinguished 
in 1835, a period of nineteen years; the 
average amount paid oft' annually by the 
government was thus $6,700,000. The 
government bank, being furnished Avith such 
machinery, was necessarily the best medium 
of collecting bills ; thus the New York mer- 



chants, as an instance, sold their goods to 
the shopkeepers all over the Union, and. 
they took notes payable at the local banks. 
The credits thus granted could be collected 
by the United States Bank cheaper than by 
any other bank. Hence, in New York, the 
" branch" would be the receptacle for 
accounts to be collected in all other cities ; 
the bank would forAvard these to its appro- 
priate branch, say Richmond ; the branch 
there would notify the local merchants of 
the notes it held against them ; these would 
pay in checks upon the local banks where 
they kept their deposits, and all these checks 
collected by the United States branch would 
make it the common creditor of all the local 
banks, whose specie it thus controlled ; it 
would notify the New York branch of what 
collections had been made, and these would 
credit the mercantile owners Avith the 
amounts. The poAver of the bank from this 
source, operating through all its branches, 
Avas much greater than from the use of the 
government funds, and the state banks com- 
plained loudly of the tyranny that they 
alleged it exerted over them. A stormy 
opposition Avas thus formed against it, Avhile, 
on the other hand, a generation of merchants 
had groAvn up under its administration of the 
exchanges, and they feared the results of a 
change. Meanwhile, the question became 
political, and a great party, as early as 1829, 
gave indication that the rccharter in 1836 
Avould not be granted. A struggle betAveen 
the bank and the government ensued, and 
in 1833 the President removed the public 
deposits from the bank and placed them 
with numerous state banks. These ran a 
race of expansion Avith the United States 
Bank ; the consequence Avas an immense spec- 
ulation, which resulted in general bankruptcy 
in 1837. The government, on removing the 
deposits to the state banks, enjoined them 
to be liberal to the merchants. This Avas 
done in the view of counteracting the strin- 
gency Avhich the closing up of the United 
States Bank was expected to cause. This 
did not occur, hoAvever, since that institu- 
tion also Avas liberal Avith its loans. A rapid 
expansion resulted from this rivalry, and 
speculation ran Avild, particularly in public 
lands. In the midst of this excitement, the 
government issued the famous " specie cir- 
cular," by Avhich the lands Avere to be sold 
for cash, gold and silver only. The eftect of 
this Avould be either to kill the speculation 
or to drain all the specie into the land oflSces; 



BILLS OF CREDIT GOVERNMENT ISSUES UNITED STATES BANK. 



203 



it did the former. This wa-s followed by a 
resolution of the Bank of England to cut 
off credits to American merchants, and the 
revulsion was precipitated. The charter of 
the United States Bank was not renewed by 
Congress, but the same institution obtained 
a charter from the State of Pennsylvania, 
February 18, 183G, under the name of the 
United States Bank of Philadelphia. The 
terms of this charter were very onerous, such 
as no institution could pay from profits ; the 
bank consequently feiled, in common with 
all others in the Union, in 1837. It resumed 
its payments, following those of New York, 
January, 1839, and struggled on until Octo- 
ber 1839, when it finally failed. On 
going into liquidation, it was found that 
more than the whole of its large capital, 
$35,000,000, had been swallowed up, sub- 
jecting the stockholders to a total loss. This 
disaster was no doubt brought about by its 
abandonment of sound principles in the vain 
hope of compelling the government to re- 
charter it. But the institution had outlived 
its usefulness ; the country had outgrown 
the circumstances for which such a bank 
•was fitted. We have thus sketched the 
outline of that bank before glancing at the 
progress of the state institutions, because, 
up to 1840, that bank was the controlling 
power. The progress of banking among the 
states has been step by step with the grow- 
ing wealth, population, and commerce of the 
country. This growth was manifestly too 
vigorous to permit of the continued existence 
of any regulating power. 

The relative growth of the state banks, 
and the business of the country proportional 
to the national bank, was as follows : — 



No. 
1791, 3 

1811, 89 

1817, 246 

1837, 634 

18G0, 1,562 



State banks. National bank. 

( apital. Capital. 

2,000,000 10,000.000 

52,601,601 10,000,000 

89,822,422 35,000,000 

290,772,091 35,000,000 
421,880,095 



Thus the national bank, which began 
with a capital five times as large as all the 
state banks, was only one-fifth of their 
aggregate in 1811. In 1817 the state capi- 
tal was two and a half times the new Na- 
tional Bank capital, and in 1 836 it was eight 
times that capital. Had it then been re- 
chartered, with the same amount, it would 
now have been but one-twelfth of the capital 
of the state banks. 



CHAPTER 11. 

STATE BANKS— SUFFOLK SYSTEM-SAFETY 
FUNDS— FREE BANKS. 

The growth of state banks has fluctuated 
from time to time, under different circum- 
stances of local trade, and the general nature 
of banks has changed in obedience to similar 
conditions. The nature of the banking sys- 
tems of each locality has, however, under- 
gone repeated modifications, and the general 
tendency is to the circulation of less paper. 
We shall endeavor to give a sketch of each. 
The first attempt at banking in New England 
was the creation of a land bank in 1740. 
At that time about eight hundred persons 
subscribed a capital in real estate, and hav- 
ing appointed ten directors, agreed to issue 
one hundred and fifty thousand pounds in 
paper, to circulate as money. This was dis- 
solved by Parliament, and the stockholders 
held individually liable for the bills. In 
1784 a bank was chartered by the Massachu- 
setts Legislature, and the other New England 
states followed the example from time to 
time. In 1805 there were in existence 
forty-seven banks in the six New England 
states, with an aggregate capital of |13,- 
353,000. In 1815, at "the close of the war, 
these had risen to sixty -three banks, and 
$19,053,902 of capital, and the circulation 
had become large. In 1860 the number of 
banks in those states had risen to five hun- 
dred and five, with a capital ot 190,186,990. 
In the course of this increase, the system of 
banking there had undergone less changes 
than in other states. 

The paper currency of New England was 
generally of small denominations, and emit- 
ted by a larger number of banks with small 
capitals than that of most other sections. 
These institutions were scattered over the 
six New England states, and the bills of 
each bank forming the currency of its neigh- 
borhood, would, in the course of trade, ulti- 
mately find their way to Boston, the com- 
mon centre of business. There being no 
provision for their redemption, they circu- 
lated at a discount, and this discount was 
increased in proportion to the issues of each 
bank, inflicting loss upon the community. 
To remedy this, the Suffolk Bank of Boston, 
in 1825, undertook to receive all the bills 
and send them home by an agent to the 
issuing bank, requiring each to redeem in 



204 



BANKS IN THE UNITED STATES. 



specie at its own counter. This compelled 
each bank to keep a large amount of specie 
on hand, at an expense which ate up the 
profits of the circulation. They all agreed, 
in consequence, to keep at the Suffolk about 
three thousand dollars deposited, to redeem 
any balance of notes that might be there 
found against them. To keep down that 
balance each Mas then compelled to restrict 
its circulation to the actual business wants 
of its locality, that there might be no surplus 
currency ; in other words, that the course 
of trade might carry to Boston no more of 
its bills than would be paid by the produce 
of the locality sent thither for sale, and also 
to send promptly to the Suffolk any bills of 
other banks that might come into its hands, 
as an oflTset to its own balances. Thus all 
the banks in New England were actively en- 
gaged in running each other, and five hun- 
dred streams poured country money daily 
into the Suffolk receptacle, to be assorted 
and sent back to the issuers. This kept down 
the volume of the currency in that section. 
After the creation of railroads and tele- 
graphs, the ditFiculty of keeping out an excess 
of circulation was greater. To be " thrown 
out of the Suffolk," or, in other words, not 
be able to meet a balance there, was fatal 
to the reputation of a bank. The system 
worked well up to the civil war. It was 
the case, however, that although those insti- 
tutions could not put out an excessive cir- 
culation in New England, many of them 
lent their notes on securities, on condition 
that the notes should be paid out at the far 
west, whence they would be very slow in re- 
turning for redemption. The Suffolk mode 
of regulation by the laws of trade was, upon 
the whole, very successful. 

In New York the same evils manifested them- 
selves as in New England, and in 1829 a rem- 
edy was attempted in the shape of the " safety 
fund." This did not undertake to restrain the 
issues of the banks, but to protect the public 
from loss by failure. Under it all the banks 
doing business in the state were required to 
contribute one-half of one per cent of their 
aggregate circulation to a fund to be called 
the " Safety Fund," out of which the notes 
of a broken bank were to be paid in full. 
This worked ver}^ well during a number of 
years of prosperity, but in the revulsion of 
1837 a number of banks failed under disas- 
trous circumstances, and the fund was found 
to be entirely insufficient — besides being 
wrong in principle, since it called upon the 



honest and well-conducted banks to pay the 
debts of the dishonest ones. It is hardly 
worth while, in a short history like J;his, to 
enumerate all the restrictions as to discounts, 
specie on Kand, and emission of bills, that 
the various states have incorporated in bank 
laws. It may suffice to say, that all are 
powerless to prevent evil. On the failure of 
the safety fund system of New York, how- 
ever, a radical change took place in the policy 
in regard to banks. The privilege of issuing 
notes to circulate as money at their own will 
and pleasure, liad been found to be danger- 
ous to the public, and the law of April, 1838, 
called the " free banking law," was passed, 
by which the power to issue bills directly 
was taken from the banks. Under that law, 
the Comptroller of the state prepared the 
plates, and delivered the bills to the banks, 
upon their lodging with him such securities, 
mostly state stocks, as amply secured the re- 
demption of the bills. The name, "free 
banking," was given to the law, because itre- 
moved from the banks the restrictions rela- 
tive to discounts, and the necessity for a char- 
ter. This law was altered in some respects 
almost every year of its existence, but its 
main features remained the same, and it be- 
came in New York the sole law to regulate 
banking. All the old banks, as their charters 
expired, reorganized under it, since the state 
constitution provided that no new charters 
could be granted or old ones renewed. The 
working of this law was so efficient and pop- 
ular, that it spread into most of the northern 
and western states. The progress of bank- 
ing in New Y'^ork has been as follows : 



NUMBER OP BANKS AND AGGREGATE CAPIT.U,. 



No 


Capital. 




6 


4,V'iO,000 




8 


7,522,760 


Expiration of first U. S. bank. 


27 


18,766,756 


Rechart«r U. S. bank. 


86 


31,281,461 


Charter U. S. Bk expired ; susp 


94 


36,401,460 


Free banking law ; resumption. 


294 


107,449,143 


Suspenion. 


303 


111,441,370 


Recovery. 


302 


109,982,324 


War commenced. 


309 


109,258,147 


Organization of Nat. banks. 



1801, 
1811, 
1816, 

1836, 
1838, 
1857, 
1860, 
1861, 
1863. 



The New York law requires the banks to 
issue the bills at the place of their location, 
and to redeem them at not more than one- 
half per cent, discount in the city of New 
York. These institutions, however, have an 
arrangement with the Metropolitan Bank, in 
New York, by which they are redeemed at 
a less rate. 

Pennsylvania, in the early part of the cen- 
tury, was slow to create banks, and it had 
but three up to 1814, in which year 41 new 



STATE BANKS — SUFFOLK SYSTEM — SAFETY FUNDS — FUEE BANKS. 



205 



banks were incorporated. Subsequently, it 
created numbers, and has probably suffered 
more than any other state from its abused 
bank credits. The proj^ress of affairs tliere 
was as folljws, exclusive of the United States 
Bank, which was situated at Philadelphia: — 

No Capital. 

1801, -l 6,iXK),a)0 

ISU, 4 6,ir)3,i)0<) Expirationof U. S. bank. 

1815, 42 15,0a>i,000 Low credit ; 41 new banks. 

1820, 36 14,tJ81,0iK) Twenty -two banka failed. 

1S36, 49 23,75 l,*i'J St;ite c-harter U . S. bk ; susp. 

1839, 49 25,255,7S3 lU^sumption. 

1869, 87 24,5(55,805 Kecovirv from panic of 1857. 

• 1S61, 89 25,843.215 War (•(immenccd. 

1863, 94 26,561,3)7 Orgauizution Nat. banks. 

There was, up to 1 830, a great number of 
unauthorized banks doing bu.siness in Penn- 
sylvania, and they presented a constant suc- 
cession ot bankruptcies. The authorized 
capital down to the present, time has not kept 
pace with tliat of other states, taking the 
wealth and population of Pennsylvania into 
consideration. 

Maryland chartered its first bank in 1790, 
the Hank of Maryland, capital $300,(100, and 
continued to increase them moderately up to 
the present time. The progress of capital 
there has been as follows :— 

No. Capital. 

1801, 2 $1,600,000 

1811, 6 4,835,402 U. S. Bank expired. 

1814, 17 7,882,000 Banks suspended. 
1820, 14 6,708,180 

1837, 21 10,438,65.5 Suspension. 

1859, 32 12,560,6.35 

1862, 3.3 12,505,559 "War in progress. 

New Jersey has been influenced to some 
extent in her banking operations, by the state 
of things in New York and Pennsylvania, 
and in 1 850 it adopted the general banking 
law of New York. Its progress has been as 
follows : — 

No. Capital. 

1805, 2 Si, 000,000 

1811, 3 789,740 U. S. Bank expired. 

1815, 11 2,121,9.33 Suspension. 
1820, 14 2,1.30,949 

1837, 25 3,970,090 Suspension. 

1850, 24 3,565,283 Free law. 

1855, 32 5,314,885 

1857, 48 7,494,4)12 Suspension. 

1859, 46 7,356,122 

1862, 51 7,9.33,933 War in progress. 

The multiplication of banks in New Jersey 
under the new law, was mostly for the benefit 
of circulating their is,sues in New York at a 
discount, and they were of but little service 
to New .Jersey. 

Delaware has created banks in proportion 
to its size, in the following ratio : — 





No. 


Capital. 




1801, 


1 


$110,000 




1815, 


5 


966,000 


Suspension. 


1819, 


6 


974,000 




1837, 


4 


817,775 


Suspension. 


1849 


2 


210,000 


Gold discovery. 


1859, 


12 


1,638,185 




1862, 


14 


1,915,010 


"War in progres 



Ohio has been, of all the states, the most 
diversified in its policy in regard to banks. 
Its first bank was chartered in 1803, but it 
did not increase charters much until migra- 
tion set thither after the war of 1812, when 
the new United States Bank established two 
branches, one in Cincinnati and one in Chil- 
licothe. The progress of banks was then 
rapid up to the explosion of 1837, when about 
36 of the banks of that state fail* d, under 
disastrous circumstances, leaving hut few in 
existence on the resumption of specie pay- 
ments in 1840. In 1845, a new t^ystem of 
banking was introduced, designed to restore 
that confidence in banks which had been so 
rudely shaken by the previous failures. It 
was called the " safety fund system," being 
composed of thirty -six banks which, together, 
form the State Bank, under a board of con- 
trol, composed of delegates from each bank, 
which furnishes the notes to all lor circula- 
tion. Each bank must deposit with the board 
10 per cent, of its circulation in securities. 
Of 42 banks started under this law, 36 re- 
mained with capital of $4,034,525. The same 
law created the "independent system," by 
which the banks doing business under it 
must deposit Ohio or United States stock 
with the State Treasurer to secure the circu- 
lation. There were 7 of these banks. There 
remained the old chartered banks, of which 
the Ohio Life and Trust — whose explosion 
in 1857 precipitated the panic which had 
been prepared for the public mind — was 
the last. In 1851, the free hanking law of 
New York was adopted ; under this 13 banks 
were started. In the same year, by the new 
constitution of the state, the legislature was 
deprived of the right to grant banking powers 
until the law for so doing should be approved 
by the people. The general progress in Ohio 
to 1862, was as follows : — 



No. Capital. 

1805, 1 $200,000 

1811, 4 895,000 

1816, 21 2,061,927 

1837, 32 10,870,089 

1845, 8 2,171,807 

1851, 56 7,129,227 

1854, 66 7,166,581 

1859, 53 6,701,151 

1862, 56 5,539,950 



New U. S. Bank. 

Susjicnsion. 

State bank law. 

Free law. 

Fr(!e law. 

Recovery. 

War in progress. 



206 



BANKS IN THE UNITED STATES. 



Indiana became a state in 1816, and in 
1819 there were two banks, with a capital 
of 1202,857, and so continued until 1834. 
■when the State Bank of Intliana was created, 
capital !$l,GOO,OiM), and with ten branches, 
which were mutually liable for each other's 
debts, and notes under $5 were prohibited. 
The bank stopped, partially, in 1837, and 
resumed payment October, 1841. In 1852 
the general banking law of New Tork was 
adopted, and under it ninety-four banks were 
speedily organized, and fifty-one of them soon 
failed. The ciiarter of the State Bank of 
Indiana having expired, the legislature char- 
tered a new one, with capital of $6,000,000, 
and twenty branches, which bought out the 
state interest in the old bank, the charter 
being paid up to January 1, 1857. The 
progress of the state has been as follows • 

No. Capital. 

1819, 2 $202,857 

18;)5, 10 800.000 State bank. 

1837, 11 1,845,000 Suspension. 
1839, 11 2,216,700 Kesumption. 

1841, 11 

1852, 44 5,554,552 Free banking law. 

1854, 59 7,281,934 New state bank. 

1859, 37 3,617,629 

1862, 39 4,557,654 War in progress. 

Eighteen of these free banks, capital 
$1,203,454. 

Illinois came into the Union in 1818, and 
in 1819 there were two banks, capital 
$140,910 — one of which had been chartered 
in 1813, under the territory. It stopped in 
1815 and remaned so until 1835, when the 
legislature revived it and increased its capital 
to $1,400,000. The constitution of the 
state in 1818 forbade the creation of any 
new banks except a state bank, which 
was chartered in 1819, with a capital of 
$4,000,000. This was repealed and a new 
bank chartered, which speedily failed. In 
1835 a new bank was chartered, capital 
$1,500,000 to $2,500,000. These banks sus- 
pended in 1837, going into liquidation in 

1842, and no banks existed in the state until 
the adoption of the free banking law in 1851. 
The general progress to 1862, was as follows : 

No. Capital. 

1819, 2 8140,910 

1835, 2 278,739 State bank charter. 

1838, 2 5,473,050 Failure. 

1843, Liquidation. 
1854, 29 2.513,790 Free baulking law. 
1857, 45 4.679.325 Suspension. 
1859, 103 8,900,000 Recovery. 

1862, 18 712,361 War produced a crisis. 

Michigan was admitted as a state in Jan- 
uary, 1837, but there had been already a 



number of small banks authorized by the 
territorial legislature. These rapidly multi- 
plied under the state, during the speculative 
year 1837. In the early part of that year 
there existed 20 banks, with a capital of 
$1,918,361. These were a total wreck, and 
in March, 1838, a general banking law 
was passed, in order, as was alleged, to throw 
the business open. In one year, 49 banks, 
with a capital of $3,915,000, were projected. 
Of these, 42 went into operation. Those 
banks were not required to redeem their 
issues on demand. The result was utter in- 
solvency, inflicting a heavy loss upon the 
public. In 1849, the " free banking law " 
was adopted, with personal liabilities to stock- 
holders. The progress was as follows ; — 

No. Capital. 

1835, 8 $658,980 Territorial government. 

1837, 9 1,400,000 State and general law. 

1838, 43 2,317,765 Revulsion. 
1844, 3 202,650 Liquidation. 
1 849, 5 392,530 Free law. 
1859, 4 755,461 

1862, 4 786,455 

Iowa was admitted into the Union in 1 846. 
It had at Dubuque the Miners' Bank, char- 
tered by Wisconsin before the erection of 
Iowa territory, in operation since ]838. In 
1858 it adopted the fi'ee banking law, and 
authorized a State Bank, which, with its 
branches, organized in 1859. In 1862, the 
State Bank and its 15 branches had $720,- 
890 capital. 

Wisconsin was admittted into the Union 
in 1848. It had, during some ten years, two 
banks, that of Mineral Point and the Bank 
of Wisconsin; these failed, and in 1851 a 
new bank was started at Milwaukee. In 1854 
the free banking law was adopted ; since that 
time the progress has been as follows : — 



No. 
2 
2 



Capital. 
$119,625 
139.125 



1837, 

1839, 

1848, 

1854, 10 600,000 

1857, 38 2,635,000 

1859, 98 7,995,000 

1860, 108 7,620,000 
1862, 70 4,397,000 



Suspension. 
State admitted. 
Free law. 
Suspension. 
Expansion. 
Expansion. 
Panic. 



The operation of the free law, by retarding 
the convertibility of the bills ot the Wis- 
consin banks, caused, when crojjs are short, 
exchange on the east to rule high, in other 
words depreciates the currency. The bank 
circulation was about $4,b00,000. 

Minnesota has made, as yet, little prog- 
ress in banking. It adopted the free bank- 
ing law in 1858, and several banks were 



G 



b 
hi 




,;r:^-,gtL ij i: iliatiiilll kWw,']. 



8TATK BANKS SUFFOLK SYSTEM — SAFETY FUNDS FREE BANKS. 



207 



started under it. In ISGO there were 17, 
but before INlay. 1S()2, 14 of these hud failed 
and 2 of tlie remaining three did no business 
in the state. 

Net)raska, before becoming a state, had 
a number of banks, ehartereci by the legisla- 
ture, but these all went down, some in the 
panic of 18o7 and some afterwards, and in 
18 G2 she had not one left. 

Kentucky was admitted into the Union in 
1792, and in 1801 it authorized a bank, with 
a capiUil of $150,000, under the guise of an 
Insurance Company, authorized to issue 
notes. In 1804 it chartered the Bank of 
Kentuck}', capital $1,000,000; this bank 
failed in 1814, but resumed in 1815. In 
1817 a batch of forty banks, with $10,000,000 
capital, was authorized to redeem their notes 
by paying out Kentucky bank-notes for 
them instead of specie. The result was a 
flood of irredeemable paper, which stimu- 
lated all kinds of speculation and jobbing, 
and ended in a general explosion and dis- 
tress within the year. To " relieve " the 
people, the state chartered the Common- 
wealth Bank, capital $3,000,000, pledging 
lands south of the Tennessee river, in addi- 
tion to the faith of the state, for the redemp- 
tion of the bills, which creditors were re- 
quired to take at par for their claims, or 
wait two years for their pay. The bills fell 
at once to fifty cents on the dollar, and 
which proportion of their debts creditors 
were thus required to lose. This gave rise 
to party strife, which, at the end of five years, 
resulted in the repeal of the law and the 
suppression of the paper. The United States 
Bank had two branches in the state, one at 
Lexington and one at Louisville. When, in 
1833, it became evident that that institution 
would not be rechartered, three new banks, 
with branches, were authorized, capital 
$7,030,0UO ; subsequently another was start- 
ed. These went into operation, but sus- 
pended in 1837, resuming in 1839 with the 
United States liank, and again suspended on 
the final failure of that concern. In 1842, 
the banks again resumed, and since then the 
number has gradually increased, as follows: 

Xo. Capitnl. 

1819, 18 $4.3U7.4:il Irredeemable. 

1833, 2 792,427 Kew charter. 

1835, i 4,100,202 "With ten branches. 

1837, 4 8,499,094 Suspension. 

1851, 2G 7,536,927 

1857, 35 in,r)0(^.'"''' Pnspension. 

1P60, 45 12,835,070 Kccuvcry. 

1862^ 57 16,305,500 War time. 





No. 


1319, 


3 


1820, 


1 


1835, 


3 


1837, 


3 


1852, 


23 


1857, 


45 


1800, 


34 



Tennessee commenced banking in 1807, 
with the Bank of Nashville, which soon 
failed with great loss. In 1811 it again 
chartered ten banks, and a number of others 
were from time to time started, but failed 
disastrously. In 1852 the free banking law 
was adopted, and the progress of affairs to 
18G0 was as follows : — 

Capitiil. 
$1,545,807 Disastrous failure. 
737,817 Stale baiil< eliarier. 

2,890,381 Four branches. 
6,293,079 Suspension. 
6,881, .508 

9,083,093 Suspension. 
8,067,037 

Arkansas liad two banks that were started, 
upon state bonds. These the state issued 
to the extent of $3,500,000 to the banks to 
form their capitals. The bonds were sold 
through the United States Bank, and the 
money obtained for them was loaned out 
pro rata to the stockholders, who became so 
by filing mortgages on their plantations and 
lands. Speedy ruin, of course, overtook 
both banks. These went into liquidation, 
owing the state some $.'5,000,000 on the 
bonds' which were not paid. No banks were 
started again in Arkansas till after the war. 

Mississippi is a state in which banking 
for a long time ran riot, but which has had 
but little in the last ten years. AVhen the 
state came into the Union in 1817 it had 
one bank, which continued with an increased 
capital to 1830. In that year the state 
chartered the IMantors' Bank, with a capital 
of $3,000,000, two-thirds to be subscribed 
by the state in stock, which was issued, and 
the bank went into operation. Other banks 
were then chartered, and in 1837 there were 
seventeen, with eighteen branches, and a 
capital of $10,700,951. In that year the 
Union Bank was chartered, with a capital of 
$15,000,000 in state stock; of this amount 
$5,000,000 was issued, and repudiated on 
the ground of illegality of sale, and in 1852 
the people refused, by a lai'ge vote, to pay 
those bonds. All the banks of Mississippi 
failed, and there has since been but little 
movement, as follows : — 





No. 


Capital. 




1820, 


1 


$900,000 




1830, 


1 


9.')0,600 


Capital incrc 


1834, 


1 


2,660,805 




1837, 


17 


16.700,951 


18 l)ninclics 


1838, 


11 


19,231,123 


Sus]>cnsion. 


1840, 


18 


30,379,403 


Failure. 


1851, 


1 


118,400 




1859, 


2 


1,100,000 




1861, 







All failed. 



208 



BANKS IN THE UNITED STATES. 



Missouri had one bank wlien it came into 
the Union in 1821, but it failed disastrously. 
The State Bank of Missouri and branches 
continued to be the only institution up to 
18;56, when a law was passe<l authorizing 
others, and the progress to 18G2, was as 
follows : — 

No. Brandies. Capitol. 

1819, 1 $250,IW)0 

1837, 1 1 533,350 State bank. 

1839, 1 1 1,027,870 

1857, 5 5 2,620,615 Suspension. 

1859, 17 5 5,796,781 Expansion. 

1860, 9 29 9,08-'.951 
1862, 44 — 13,884,383 

Louisiana came into tlie Union in 1812, 
with one bank, having a capital of $500,000. 
This was increased to tln-ee banks in 1815, 
capital $1,4:52,000. The progress subse- 
(luently was not great nntil after 1830, when 
the speculative spirit of those years was 
largely developed in Louisiana, and thence 
to 1860, was as follows : — 

No. Branches. Capital. 

1830, 3 $4,665,980 

1837, 16 31 36,769,455 Suspension, 

1840, 16 31 41,711,214 Faihire. 
1843, 6 22 20,929,340 Liquidation. 
1851, 6 22 12,370,390 Fl-ecbanklaw. 
1857, 6 22,800,830 Suspension. 
1860, 13 — 24,496,866 

The free banking law was adopted in 
1853, and four banks were started under its 
provisions, which required the banks to 
keep one third of their liabilities in specie 
on hand. 

Alabama has had experience of a disas- 
trous nature in state banking, and there has 
been little enterprise in that direction since 
the failure of the State Hank. When she 
came into the Union in 1819 she had one 
bank, with a capital of $321,112. In 1830 
she had two banks. It was then supposed 
that by embarking in banking, the state 
might derive profits enough to pay all the 
state expenses and dispense with taxation. 
Accordingly, state bonds were issued to form 
the capital of the State Bank, which how- 
ever, soon failed, and the stale was saddled 
with a debt of some $11,000,000. 

The progress was as follows : — 





No. 


Capitol. 




1819, 


1 


$321,112 




1830, 


2 


781,010 




1837, 


3 


10,141,806 


Suspension. 


1840, 


3 


14 379,255 


I..i(iuiilatiun. 


1843, 


1 


1,. 500,000 


l{;uik of Mobile. 


1851, 


1 


1,500,000 


Free banking law. 


1857, 


4 


2,297,800 


Suspension. 


1860, 


8 


4,901,000 





Virginia charter( d a bank as early as 1804 
for 53 years, the Bank of Virginia, capital 
$1,500,000, since enlarged. In 1830 there 
were four bank.s, and the change was not great 
down to 1851, when the free law was adopted, 
but the charters of the old banks were re- 
newed as they expired. The course of 
events was as follows : — 

No. Brandies. Capitol. 



$5,1 12,192 

5,571,181 

6.7.'52,5()0 Suspension. 

7.45s,248 
10,363,362 

9,731 ,370 Free banking law. 
14,651,600 Suspension. 
16,005,156 



1819, 

1830, 4 18 

1837, 5 18 

1839, 5 20 

1840, 6 
1851, 6 20 
1857, 22 40 
1860, 24 41 

North Carolina began her Dank career in 
1804, in granting a charter for $250,000 
capital. From that time the number and 
alliount of capital steadily increased, with- 
out any material deviation from a steady 
course, until 1860, as follows : — 

No. Brandies. Capital. 

1810, 3 $2,964,887 

1830, 3 3,195,000 

1837, 3 7 2,880,590 Suspension. 

1850, 3 «2 3,789.250 

1860, 12 18 6,526,488 

South Carolina was more variable in its 
banking movement. Its first institution 
was the State Bank. In 1820 the capital 
was pledged as security for the state debt, 
and it became a reg .lar bank. The progress 
of the state to 1860 was as follows :— 





No. 


Capitol. 




1792, 


1 


$675,000 




1711, 


4 


3,475,000 




1820, 


3 


2,4:4,"! lO 




1836, 


10 


8,6.36,118 




1837, 


4 


4,100,1100. 


Suspension. 


1839, 


11 


9,15.1,498 


Eight new charters 


1850, 


14 


13,179 131 




1860, 


20 


962,062 





Georgia had a rej^ular supply of banks 
afler the expiration of the first United States 
Bank in 1811, when she chartered an insti- 
tution with $21.5,000 capital. In 1820 this 
had increased to four banks, with a capital 
of $3,401,510, and the progress to 1860, 
was as follows : — 

No. Capitol. 

1811, 1 $215,000 01(1 U. S. Bank expired. 

1816, 3 1,. 502,000 New " chartered, 

1820, 4 3,401,510 

1833, 13 6,.534,69l Deposits removed. 

1837, 16 11, 438, '^28 Suspension. 

1840, 39 15,098,694 

1846, 22 8,970,7-9- 

1857, 30 16,015,256 Suspension. 

1860, 20 16,689,560 



BANKS OF THE OMITED STATES — CLEARING HOUSES — PRIVATE BANKING. 



209 



District of Columbia banks were estab- 
lished as early as 171)2, in the district, and 
increased pretty rapidly, as follows : — 





No. 


'Capital. 


1792, 


1 


$5Ul),0()0 


1802, 


2 


1,500,000 


1811, 


4 


2,341,395 


1815, 


10 


4,078,295 


1820, 


13 


5,525,319 


1 830, 


9 


3,879,574 


1837, 


7 


2,204,445 


1844, 


6 


1,649,280 



Most of the charters expired, and not 
being renewed, the concerns gradually went 
into liquidation. 

P^lorida came into the Union in 1845, with 
a load of five banks that had been chartered 
by the territory in 1838, with an aggregate 
capital of $2,113,000. These were mostly 
based upon $3, .500,000 territorial bonds, 
issued to the banks for capital, and sold in 
London. The concerns failed almost as soon 
as they got the money, and went into liqui- 
dation, when the state repudiated the bonds, 



and there were no banks in Florida, until 
1860, when two were started, with $300,000 
capital. 

From this sketch of banking in each state, 
it is to be observed that the creation of banks 
has been due more to the dc-sire to borrow 
mon(!y through their ojjeration than to lend 
it. The mistaken idea that they could suj)- 
ply capital, was tlie temptation to their cre- 
ation, and disastrous failure ever^ where at- 
tended the experiinent. Clradually a prin- 
ciple of sound banking vindicated itself amid 
numerous disasters, and actual capital came 
to be employed in the business. 



CHAPTER III. 
BANKS OF THE UNITED STATES— CLEAR- 
ING HOUSES— PRIVATE BANKING. 

Having sketched the course of events in 
each state, we may recapitulate the leading 
features of all the state banks : — 



1791, 

1800, 
1811, 
1815, 
1816, 
1820, 
1830, 
1837, 
1840, 
1843, 
1846, 
1854, 
1857, 
1860, 
1863, 



BANKS OF ALL THE UNITED STATES TOTAL OF TMrORTS 

Loans. Circulation. Specie. 



No. 

3 

32 

89 

208 

24 G 

308 

3.30 

6.34 

901 

691 

707 

1,208 

1,416 

1 ,.562 

1,466 



Capital. 

$2,000,000 

23,550,000 

52,601,601 

82,259,590 

89,822,422 

137,110,611 

145,192.268 

290.772,091 

358,442,692 

228,861,948 

196,894,309 

301,376,071 

370,8.34,686 

421,880,095 

405,045,829 



200,451,214 
525,115,702 
462,896,523 
2.')4,544,937 
312,114,404 
557,397,779 
684,456,889 
691,945,580 
648,601,863 



$28,100,000 

4 5, .500,000 

68,000,000 

44,863,344 

61,323,898 

149,185,890 

106,968,572 

58,563,608 

105,552,427 

204,689,207 

214,778,822 

207,102,477 

238,677,208 



$15,400,000 
17,000,000 
19,000,000 
19,820,240 
22,114,917 
37,915,340 
33,105,155 
33,515,806 
42,012,095 
59,410,353 
58,349,838 
83,594,537 

101,227,367 



AND EXPORTS POPHLATION. 

Deposits. Imports & Exports. Population. 

$48,212,041 3,929,827 

162,224,548 5,305,925 

144,7 10, 8.33 7,449,960' 

165,599,027 8,353,338 

229,024,452 8.595,806 

$35,950,470 144,141,669 9,638,131 

55,559,928 144,726,428 12,866,020 

127,397,185 258,408,591 15,681,467 

75,680,857 2.39,227,465 17,069,453 

56,168,628 149,100,279 18,713,479 

96,913.070 235,180,313 20,515,871 

188,188,744 582,803,445 26,051,890 

2,30,351,352 723,850,823 28,406,974 

2.53,802,129 854,500,000 31,443,321 

393,686,126 594,097,046 34,478,633 



This table shows the number of banks, 
with their aggregate capital, at imjiortant 
eras. As in 1791, when the national bank 
and mint went into operation; 1811, when 
the bank charter expired; 1815, when the 
numerous banks that had sprung into being 
on the dissolution of the National Bank, were 
all suspended; in 1816, when the peace, 
bringing with it large imports of good.s, and 
a heavy drain of specie to Europe and Asia, 
increased the confusion and aided the re 
establishment of a national bank ; 1820, 
when that bank, in full operation, was stag- 
gerring under adverse exchanges and the oj)e- 
ration of local l)anks ; 1830, when five years 
of successful working, after the revulsion of 
1825, and mider a high taritf, had given con- 
fidence to the public ; \H'.j7, when the rivalry 
between the state and the national banks 
13* 



had, aided by the state of affairs in Europe, 
stimulated speculation, which resulted in the 
revulsion of that year; 1840, when the 
number of banks had reached the highest 
point, under efforts to restore prosperity 
by paper credits ; 1843, the lowest point of 
depression after the failure of those efforts,, 
and the licpiidation of the un.sound banks ;• 
1846, wluui the bank capital was at a low 
point, but bank credits had begun to multiply 
under the effeets of the famiiu! abroad ; 1854, 
when the gold discoviiries had promj)ted the 
creation of five hundred new banks ; the 
panic period of 1857 ; the partial restora- 
tion of 1800 ; and the contraction and gen- 
eral upheaval in all financial operations pro- 
ducinl by two yiiars of war, in 1803. 

The mere figures, showing the magnitude 
of the bank movement, do not indicate the 



210 



BANKS IN THE UNITED STATES. 



clianojes in the manner of doing business, nor 
do they indicate any unsafe expansion, except 
as in connection with the business they 
represent. Thus, in 1837, the bank loans 
were §525,000,000, and their circulation 
$149,000,000. Events proved that those 
loans were of the most speculative and un- 
safe cliaracter. In 1860, the loans were 
$691,900,000, and the circulation $207,000,- 
000. Yet these larger figures were very far 
from being excessive. They represent but 
$6 circulation per head of the people, while 
that of 1837 was nearly $10 per head. The 
imports and exports, were, in 1837, but half 
the amount of bank loans. In 1860 they 
exceeded the amount of bank loans, but 
in 18G3 were fifty -four million less. It is 
thus evident, that the larger sum of bank 
loans represents actual business, while those 
of 18-37 represented only speculative values. 
This fact of the nature of loans made is the 
key to sound banking. It is a matter which 
depends upon the judgment and skill of the 
banker, and it cannot be regulated by law. 
Hence the futility of all the laws that have 
been devised to prevent banks from breaking. 
It is to be remembered, that the bank loans 
form but a portion of the credits which are 
the great purchasing power in trade. Almost 
all the wholesale business of the country is 
done with the notes of individuals, running 
for a longer or less time. These are entirely 
independent of law or banks. In a time of 
great mercantile confidence and speculative 
activity^ business men are disposed to buy 
on credit, and their competition for produce 
and merchandise causes a rise in prices. This 
rise stimulates greater activity, which reacts 
upon prices until revulsion is brought about. 
The agency which the banks have in this 
matter is to discount a portion of the notes 
Avhich a dealer takes in exchange for the mer- 
chandise he sells. The bank in discounting 
does not actually lend any money. It 
merely operates a canceling of credits by 
book accounts. Thus, a merchant buys goods 
and gives his note at six months. He then 
deposits what money he receives in the 
course of business to await the maturity of 
the note. As the period approaches, he finds 
that he has not money enough, but he has in 
his pocket-book a number of notes that he 
has taken for goods. These he takes to the 
bank and offers as collateral security for his 
own note, that he ofters for discount. The 
bank making the discount places the amount 
to his credit, ilo draws a check against that 



credit in favor of the note he has to pay, and 
the two entries cancel each other. There 
has been no money used, but one kind of 
promise has supplanted another. As the 
crops come forward from the country, the 
drafts drawn against them pay the notes held 
by the merchant and lodged as collateral. 
Dearness or scarcity of money in the market 
depends mainly upon the disposition of the 
banks to facilitate the canceling of credits, 
and in this the institution affects to be gov- 
erned by the state of the foreign trade. If 
the disposition to buy goods has been very 
active and prices are consequently so high as 
to pay good profits on imports, the arrivals 
of merchandise will be large and the exports 
proportionably small. This involves a demand 
for specie which the banks avoid, by refusing 
to come under new obligations. A competi- 
tion in curtailment sets in. The bank that 
curtails the most rapidly will have the 
balances in its favor from the other banks, 
and will command their specie. Each en- 
deavors to attain such a position. The pres- 
sure becomes great, the public alarmed, and 
individual depositors draw their specie, which 
exhausts the banks, and they stop. This was 
the state of affairs in 1857. 

The general tendency of the banks has 
been, under the teachings of experience, to 
equalize balances and to insist on prompt 
payment. In the case of circulation this was 
done in New England by the Suffolk system, 
and in New York and most other states by 
the free law, which required a deposit of state 
stocks of dollar for dollar of the circulation. 
It is obvious, however, that these regulations 
in no degree affect discounts and those ope- 
rations where circulation is not in question ; 
as in the checks of individuals, by which a 
large portion of credits are transferred. In 
New York city there were about oO banks, 
each of which received checks on all the other 
oanks, and had checks drawn upon it in favor 
of all others. There were also drafts and bills 
from abroad, eonstanly coming to each 
to be paid by others. Up to 1853, all 
the banks emplo3'ed each a man to go round 
and collect all these checks and drafts each 
day, and each bank kept fifty accounts open. 
To obviate this and to enforce settlement, 
the " clearinghouse " was devised. By this 
system, each l)ank sends thither every day a 
clerk, with all the demands it has against all 
other banks. The fifty or sixty clerks as- 
sembled make a mutual exchange of all 
claims, and the balance, if any, is struck, and 



RANKS OF THE UNITED STATES CLEARING HOUSES — PUIVATE BANKING. 211 



each bank pays in cash the amount of that 
bahiiice. Tlie amount of accounts depends 
upon tlie activity of business. Tlie clearing 
liouse commenced in Oct , 18.53, and its ope- 
rations have been as follows : — 

Amount Exchanged. Balances Paid. 

18.54, 5,75(),435,')87 i>'J7,41I.493 

1856, 6,906,21 3,;J28 .-534,714,489 

18.58, 4,756,664,386 314,238,910 

1860, 7,231,143,057 351,000,000 

1862, 6,871,443,591 415,530,331 

1864, 24,' 97,196,656 885,719,205 

1866, 28,717,146,914 1,066,135,106 

1868, 2><,484,288,637 1,125,455,237 

1870, 27,804,539,406 1,036,484,822 

The emergencies of the war required the 
issue of demand notes by the Government, 
of small denominations to serve for circula- 
tion, as well as the putting forth of bonds, 
treasury notes, and loans of various kinds. 
At fir«t these demand notes were the equiva- 
lent of gold and silver, and were receivable 
in payment of customs duties, as well as all 
other moneys due to the United States ; but 
the gradual advance in the price of gold made 
them so valua1)!e as to take them out of the 
circulation, and cause them to be hoarded as 
golil. Congress then authorized the issue 
of legal-tender notes of small denomina- 
tion.s, receivable for the payment of all dues 
to the Unites States except customs, which 
must be paid in gold, the coin being needed 
to pay the interest on that portion of the 
national debt upon which interest in gold 
was guaranteed. Of these legal tender notes, 
or greenbacks, $4.")0,000,000 were issued, and 
on the 1st of December, 1871, there was 
outstanding only $357,.592,801. Beside 
this, Congress authorized the issue of postal 
and fractional currency to the extent of 
$.50,000,000, but the amount issued never 
exceeded $1.5,000,000, and was, December 
1, 1871, only $40,10(5,0.3(5. From our brief 
review of the condition of the banks in the 
various statics, from lK(;o to 18G3, it will be 
apparent that they were rajiidly approach- 
ing a crisis, their issues being very generally 
distrusted and the discounts on them so per- 
])lexing and ruinous to the holders that every 
one who ccmld, >hunned them. The issue 
of legal-tender notes and fractional currency, 
while it was ab.solutely necessary to the ex- 
istence and efficiency of the National Gov- 
ernment, in the great war it was conducting, 
W'as seen by the great financiers who were 
mana'iing the nation's finances, to be but a 
temporary expedient, and liable to the seri- 
ous objection, as a permanent currency, of 



expanding most when it should be contract- 
ed and least, when expansion was neces-ary. 
But a national currency was needed ; for the 
people would not go back to the old uncur- 
rent moiK-y and the mysteries of the <ciui:- 
terfeit detectors and uncurrent money li.-t^, 
the banks of the country could not issue notes 
which would inspire general confidence. Tie 
national banking system devised by M\\ 
Chase, then Secretary of the Treas^uiy, an<l 
based in its main features upon the New 
York Free Banking law, though with addi- 
tional safeguards for depositors and bill hold- 
ers, satisfied this demand fully, and at the 
same time furnished a home market for 
$300,000,000 or more of the bonds and 
Treasury notes the Government Avas then 
issuing. The capital of the National IJanks 
consisted of these Bonds, Treasury Notes, 
(fee, and these being deposited in the U. S. 
Treasury, the Controller of the currency is- 
sued to the banks, National Bank notes of 
different denominations (printed from the 
same plates, but with the name and place of 
the bank and the foat of arms of tlu^ state 
to which it belonged in.scrted,) to the amount 
of not more than ninetv per cent, of the piir 
value of the bonds. The amount of circu- 
lation was at first limited to $300,000,000, 
but in July, 1870, an additional amount of 
$50,000,000 was permitted. Minor modi- 
fications of the original law have been made 
providing for rigid and frequent inspection 
of the condition of each bank, redeuq)tion 
in New York city, and avoiding all de[)reei- 
ation of the notes. At first the development 
of the National Banks was slow, a>; their 
advantages were not appreciated, and the 
state and local banks made a very bitter 
fight against them, but Congress passed in 
1865, an amendment to the Internal Reve- 
nue Law taxing the circulation of the state 
banks so heavily that they were gUul to with- 
draw it from the nuirket and most of tiiem 
reorganized as National Banks, which from 
this time had a rai)id growth. 

The following Table shows the progress 
of the National Banks : 

Year. No. of Banks. Capital. Circulation. 

Oct., 1863, 66 $7,188,393 

" 1864, 507 86,782,802 45, 260. 504 

" 1865, 1,513 393,157,206 17 1 ,321 ,<(o;! 

" 1866, 1,643 415,278,969 280,1 ;i9.55S 

" 1867, 1,643 420,073,415 293, '■S7. 941 

" 186S, 1,645 420.634,511 295.769,489 

" 1869, 1,617 426,399,151 293,593,645 

" 1870, 1.615 430 .""9,301 291.708 «40 

" 1871, 1,784 462,518,602 322/J52,03(» 



212 



BANKS. 



The following Table, giving the condi- 1 Banks, Sept. 30, 1871, is of interest in this 

tiou in several particulars of the National [ connection. It is official. 

SCtxtement showing the number of Banks, amount of capital, amount of bonds deposited, and circulation, in each 

Stale and TerTitonj, on the 30th daij of September, 1871. 

Territories. In operation. Capital paid in. Bonds on deposit. Circulation issued. In actual circulation. 

Maine 61 $9,125,000.00 $8,399,250 $8,414,346 $7,538 600.00 

Mew Hampshire,.., 42 4,889,000.00 4,919,000 4,835,845 4,341,695.00 

Vermont 41 7,9!0,012 50 7,271,400 7,191,350 6,468,720.00 

Massachnsctt.s 207 88,072,000.00 65,616,750 68,233,960 57,480,866.00 

Rhode Island, 62 20,364,800.00 14,851,400 15,081,565 13,236,805.00 

Connecticut, 81 25,0.56,820.00 20,078,400 20,443,410 17,800,455.(10 

New Yolk 291 ll.i,140,741.00 73,545,900 83,960,388 64,018,348.00 

New Jersey 57 12,580,350.00 11,371,850 11,422,575 10,032,520.00 

Pennsylvania, 198 51,7^0,240 00 45,731,750 46,537,610 40,.357,n46.00 

Maryland 32 13,.590,202.50 10,296,750 10,789,210 9,181,306.00 

Delaware,'. 11 1,528,185.00 1,4.53,200 1,477,875 1,.303, 475.00 

District of Columbia, 3 1,350,000 00 1,234,000 1,471,800 1,081,570.00 

Virginia, 23 3,870,000.00 3,711,500 3,481,880 3,312,400.00 

West Virginia, 17 2,621,000.00 2,504,750 2,452,540 2,175,54000 

Ohio 130 24,349,700.00 21,401,400 22,357,655 19,338,976.00 

Indiana, 75 15,032,000.00 14,.3.33,300 14,095,465 12,524,942.00 

Illinois, 115 17,128,000.00 15,527,200 15,245,550 13,722,825 00 

]Michi"an 61 7,263,800.00 5,896,.300 5,909,210 5,310,360.00 

Wisco*nsin, 41 3,400,000 00 3,314,550 3,359,650 3,083,257.00 

Io^va ..,'. 60 4,997,750.00 4,764,000 5,146,875 4,452,999 00 

Minnesota, 23 2,4.32,025.00 2,413,000 2,325,500 2,104,600.00 

Kansas, 12 8.50,000.00 785,000 741,800 649,600.00 

IMissouri, 30 8,895,300.00 6,191,750 6,401,670 5,679,718.00 

Kentucky, 29 6.168,240.60 5,625,150 5,350,510 5,071,730.00 

Tennessee, 19 2,817,300.00 2,706,150 2,656,170 2,443,171.00 

Louisiana, 6 3,500,000.00 2,858,000 2,813,020 2,555,489.00 

Mississippi, 1 100,000.00 80,000 66,000 33,776.00 

Nebraska, 5 650,000.00 640,000 581,100 561,500.00 

Colorado, 4 400,000.00 404,000 383,490 358,990.00 

Georgia, 10 2,384,400.00 2,156,400 2,041,300 1,942,743.00 

North Carolina, 9 1,560,000.00 1,515,100 1,385,300 1,362,300.00 

South Carolina,.... 7 1,895,460 00 1,380,000 1,245,340 1,240,150.00 

Alabama, 8 916,275 00 842,150 884,100 766,783.00 

Neyada, 1 250 000.00 100,000 146,200 72,486.00 

Oregoni I 250,000 00 2.50,000 136,000 135,000.00 

Texas, 5 625,000.00 625,000 648,.300 557,500.00 

Arkansas, 2 200,000.00 200,000 192,500 180,000.00 

Utah, 1 250,000.00 150,000 176,520 132,281.00 

Montana, 1 100,000.00 100,000 90,000 90,000.00 

Idaho 1 100,000.00 100,000 94,300 89,500.00 

Wyoming, 1 75,000.00 30,000 27,000 27,000.00 

New Mo.xico 1 150,000.00 150,000 135,000 135,000.00 

Fractional redemption, . . 8 20 

Total 1,784 462,518,601.60 365,444,350 380,609,879 322,952,030.20 

There are two National Gold Banks in existence, as follows : 

Gold Banks. Capital. Gold on Deposit. Gold Notes Issued. Circulation. 

Massachusetts 1 .300,000.00 150,000 120,000 120,000.00 

California, 1 1,000,000.00 500,000 375,000 375,000.00 

Total, 2 1,300,000.00 650,000 495,000 495,000.00 



There were in the United States in May, 
1871, 3.)2 chartered banks (not National) 
but working under special charters. None 
of them were, of course, banks of circulation, 
but only of discount and deposit. Their 
aggregate capital was, at that date, about 



$93,000,000. There has been also a great 
increase of private banking houses, and 
some of these having extensive foreign con- 
nections and employing a larger capital than 
any National bank, do an extensive busi- 
ness. 



UNITED STATES MINT. 



CHAPTER I. 

ESTABLISHMENT OF MINT— STANDARD OF 
COINS— LAWS REGULATIXG COINAGE- 
PROGRESS OF COINAGE— PRECIOUS MET- 
ALS IN THE COUNTRY. 

The currency, or circulating medium of 
a country, i.s of itself a very simple matter, 
althoui^h complicated at times by the theo- 
ries of financiers, and the efforts to make 
promises of a thing pass for the thing it- 
self. In the early stages of society the pro- 
ducts of industry constitute the wealth of 
the people, after thej^ have ceased to he 
merely herdsmen. These products being 
exchanged against each othei', the transac- 
tions form barter trade. As wealth in- 
creases and wants become more diversified, 
as well as the products of industry, by being 
subdivided, some common medium of value 
becomes requisite to meet all the wants of 
interchange. The precious metals have gen- 
erally been adopted as this medium, because 
the supply is the most steady, the equivalent 
value most generally known, and the trans- 
portation most convenient. Hence all trade 
comes to be represented by a weight of pure 
gold or its equivalent of pure silver, and all 
commodities come to be valued, or called 
equivalent, to certain quantities of these 
metals. To ascertain the purity and weight 
of the metal offered in payment at each 
transaction would, however, involve difficul- 
ties that would neutralize the value of the 
metals as a common medium of exchange. 
Every man would require to be an assayer, 
and to be provided with scales. To obviate 
this the government steps in, and by means 
of a mint assays the metals, and weighs 
them into convenient pieces, placing on each 
a stamp, which soon becomes universally 
known, and this is called " money." Every 
nation makes the pieces of different weights, 
and puts in more or less pure metal. To as- 
cortaiu the *^ par of exchange" between two 



countries, the coin of each is assayed, and 
the quantity of pure metal in each being 
ascertained, the par of exchange is known. 
When this continent was discovered, its in- 
habitants were savages, who had no idea of 
property, and no tiade beyond the mere ex- 
change of, perhaps, a skin for a bow or a 
bunch of arrows. Money was unknown, 
and the value of the precious metals was not 
understood. The little gold and copper that 
they had was twisted into rude ornaments; 
but no man would work for a piece of these 
metals. When the first emigrants landed, 
tliey commenced the cultivation ot the earth 
and the interchange of its products. The ac- 
cumulation of industrial products formed 
wealth. Tlieir first exchanges were mere 
barter. As late as 1652 the payment of 
taxes and other dues was made in cattle, 
skins, and other products in Massachusetts ; 
and tobacco was a medium of trade in Vir- 
ginia. Some money existed, but this was 
mostly the coins brought by the immigrants 
from the mother country, and did not suffice 
for the daily wants. Massachusetts, there- 
fore, established a mint for the coinage of 
shillings, sixpences, and threepences of ster- 
ling silver, which were "two pence in the 
shilling of less valew than the English 
coyne." This " pine tree shilling," so called 
from a pine tree on the reverse, was worth 
about twenty cents. This coinage gave 
umbrage to the mother count4'y, and when 
Governor Winslow was introduced to 
Charles II., that usually good-natured mon- 
arch took him roughly to task for the pre- 
sumption of the colony in assuming to coin 
money, at the same time producing the coin 
with the pine tree upon it. The reatly wit 
of the governor, however, turned the rebuke, 
by assuring his Majesty that it was an evi- 
dence of the devotion of the colony, which 
struck these medals in commemoration of 
the escape of his Majesty in the Royal Oak, 
which was executed as well as the poor state 
of the arts in the colony would permit. The 



214 



UNITED STATES MINT. 



coinage uas nevertheless suppressed, and the 
example of Massachusets was followed by 
Maryland with the like results. Carolina 
and Virginia struck some copper coins, hut 
without much cflcct. There being no mint, 
therefore, in any of the colonies, foreign coins 
were circulated freely as a legal tender. The 
cinintry produced none of the precious 
metals, but as the trade of the colonies in- 
creased, and they began to have a surplus of 
fish, provisions, food, tobacco, etc., beyond 
their own wants, to sell, they built vessels, 
and carrieil these articles, mostly fish, to the 
"West Indies and the catholic countries of 
Europe ; and as the mother country did not 
allow the colonies to buy manufactures ex- 
cept from herself, money was mostly had in 
exchange for this produce. Guineas, joes, 
half joes, doubloons, and pistoles of various 
origin constituted the gokl currency, while 
the silver was mostly the Spanish American 
dolhir and its fractions : the half, quarter, 
eighth, and sixteenth, with the pistareen and 
half pistareen. This silver coin flowed into 
the colonies from the Spanish West Indies, 
in exchange for fish and food ; and the 
Spanish dollar thus came to be the best 
known and most generally adopted unit of 
money. The coin had upon its reverse the 
pillars of Hercules, and was known as the 
pillar dollar ; hence the dollar mark (I), which 
represents " S," for " Spanish," entwining the 
pillars. Inasmuch as the " balance of 
trade" was in favor of England, the largest 
portion of the coin that flowed in from other 
quarters was sent thither, and this tendency 
was increased by the pernicious issues of 
paper money l)y the colonies. This paper 
displaced the coin, and drove it all out of the 
country. The exigencies of the several 
colonial governments caused them to make 
excessive issues of this " paper" or " bills of 
credit," and it fell to a heavy discount as 
compared with coin. Not being convertible 
at the date of the Revolution the deprecia- 
tion in the several colonies was nearly as 
follows : — 

VALUE OF TUB DOLLAR AND THE £ STEKLINQ IN 
COLONIAL PAPER MONEY. 

£ sterling. Dollar. 

£. 8. d. 8. d. 

New F.npland and Virginia ... 1 68 60 

New York and Is'ortli-eastern . 1 15 61 8 

Middle states 1 13 4 7 6 

South Carolina and Georgia. . . 1 8J 4 8 

On the formation of the new government, 
the terrible state of the currency first attract- 



ed attention. The country had been flooded 
with " continental money," which had been 
issued to the extent of three hundred and 
sixty millions for war expenses. The states 
had issued " bills of credit," which were de- 
preciated as in the table ; and the debased 
and diversified foreign coins that circulated 
were very few in number. Private credit 
hardly existed. Frightful jobbing took 
place in the government paper, and industry 
could with difticulty get its proper reward. 
The finst effort was to give the federal gov- 
ernment alone the right to coin money, to 
prohibit the states from issuing any more 
" bills of credit," and to get the continental 
money out of circulation by providing for 
its payment, Robert Morris had been di- 
rected to report upon the mint and a system 
of coinage, and he did so early in 1782. 
!Many plans were based upon his report, and 
finally that of Mr, Jefferson was adopted. 
It conformed to the decimal notation, with 
the Spanish dollar as the unit : A gold piece 
of ten dollars, to be called the eagle, with 
its half and quarter ; a dollar in silver ; a 
tenth of a dollar in silver ; a hundredth of a 
dollar in copper. 

In accordance with the plan of Mr. Jeffer- 
son, a law of April 2, 1792, enacted regula- 
tions for a mint, located at Philadelphia, and 
the coinage proceeded. It was found that, 
owing to the rise in the value of copper, the 
cent had been made too heavy, and, Janu- 
ary 14, 1790, it was reduced to two hundred 
and eight grains, and January 26, 1796, it 
was again reduced to one hundred and sixty- 
eight grains, at which rate it remained until 
the late introduction of nickle. The mint 
being established at Philadelphia, the work 
of coinage went on slowly, for two principal 
reasons. The first was that the material for 
coin — that i.s, gold and silver, no matter in 
what shape it may be — was obtained only, by 
the operation of trade, from abroad, and 
nearly all of it arrived at New York, the 
property of merchants. Now, although the 
government charged nothing for coining, 
yet, to send the metal from New York to 
Philadelphia during the first forty years 
of the government, when there was none but 
wagon conveyance, was expensive, and ac- 
companied with some risk. It was not, 
therefore, to be expected that the merchants 
would undertake this without any benefit ; 
the more so, as the same law, in the second 
place, still allowed the foreign coins to be 
legal tender. The merchant who received, 



UNITED STATES MINT. 



215 



say ten thousand dollars in gold coin at 
New York had only to lodge that coin in the 
local bank, and use the paper money issued 
by the bank. There was no necessity to 
send the coin to I'hiladelphia merely to be 
recoinod without profit. It was also the 
case that in the course of the newly devel- 
oped commerce between the United States 
and the countries of Europe, it was found 
that silver had been valued too high at the 
mint. It was coined in the ratio of fifteen 
to one of gold, when its real value was near- 
er sixteen to one. This relative value of the 
two metals depends upon the respective de- 
mand and supply in the markets of the 
world. At about the date of the discovery 
of America it was ten to one ; that is, ten 
ounces of pure silver Avere equal to one 
ounce of pure gold. When Peru and vSpan- 
ish America poured in their large siipplios 
of silver, the rate gradually fell to fifteen to 
one. At the close of the eighteenth centu- 
ry, and with the greater freedom of com- 
merce in the first half of the nineteenth cen- 
tury, it was found still to decline. The 
reason of this is obvious, since, in any local- 
ity, the relative value of the metals will be 
proportioned to the local supply of either, 
influenced by the expense of sending either 
to other localities. Thus, silver may have 
been really fourteen to one in one place, and 
sixteen to one in another, and the difficul- 
ties of transportation prevented an equaliza- 
tion. As soon as communication became 
prompt and cheap the equalization took 
place, and the general relative value was 
found to be somewhat changed. The efi"ect 
of this was that silver came here and gold 
went away. Nearly all the coinage of the 
mint was silver. This evil attracted the at- 
tention of the government, and a remedy 
was sought. This was finally found in 
changing the relative value of the silver to 
gold in the coinage by simply putting less 
pure gold into the eagle, and letting the 
silver remain as it was. The quantity of 
pure gold in the eagle was, thercf )re, by the 
law of June 28, iS'M, reduced from 247.5 
grains to 232 grains, or rather more than 
six and five-eighths per cent, and the quan- 
tity of allov was slightly increased, so as to 
make the fineness of the gold nine-tenths, 
or nine grains of fine gold to one of alloy in 
each piece. 

Tliis was found not to be exact, and in 
1837 the pure gold was slightly incre;ised, 
and this re<julatiou remains. Under all 





Pure 




p-.l.l. 




O rains. 


1792, 


247.5 


18;;4, 


2:52.0 


1837, 


232.2 



Total 
wei-ht. 
Grains. 


Fine- 
ness. 


270 


916.7 


258 


.S99.2 


258 


900.0 



the laws the gold coins have been as fol- 
lows : — 



Alloy. Totftl 

Silver. Copper. Alloy. 

5.C2i 16.87 i 22.5 

6.50 19.50 26.0 

6.45 19.35 25.8 



These proportions remain now the same 
for gold. In order to bring the silver to the 
same standard, the law of 18:57 reduced the 
alloy in dollars three and a half grains, mak- 
ing the dollar weigh 412 1-2 grains instead 
of 416. 

In all this period, up to 1838, there had 
been but one mint, and that at I'hiladelpliia. 
In 1831, under the desire of the government 
to enlarge the metallic basis of the national 
currency, three branches were authorized, 
one at New Orleans, one at Charlotte, North 
Carolina, and one at Dahlonega, (icorgia. 
These two latter were in mining districts, 
where gold began to be produced to some 
extent, and all three went into operation in 
1838. The coinage progressed down to 
1853, when, in consequence of the change 
brought about by the gold discoveries in 
California, a new law in relation to tlie silver 
currency was enacted. Before giving an 
account of that change, we may take a table 
of the coinage at the mint since its organiza- 
tion for several periods. 

UNITED STATES COINAOE. 









<-'opper 






GoM. 


Silver. 


and Nickel. 


Total. 


1793 to ISM, 


7,431,54.5 


10,a.80,431 


421,7:15 


18.S33,771 


1»'.!1 to l»:)4, 


4,3.14 345 


25,311,647 


236,793 


29.945,787 


Total to 1834, 


n,825.8<M 


S6,M5,078 


6.5X,5!i0 


48.779,538 
2l,121,gSS 


183-1 to 1S37, 


11.4L>4,450 


1^560,115 


137,3-.'3 


1838 to 1818, 


53.3'.'!I,H«5 


24. 251, 769 


513,336 


78.195,570 


I84<lto lK,i'.>, 


60,','n,315 


6.014,.'iO9 


311,207 


166,567,031 


18.i3 to IMBO, 


351, 377. '.01 


46,318,9,56 


1.099.347 


498,790,804 


1861 to 1870, 


3.83.;40,ni0 


18,476,710 


8,173.235 


4I(), 180,985 


Total, 


$,871, 409,161 


144,01:;, 137 


11,223,038 


1,226,144,833 



In the first twenty-seven years of tbe mint 
operation, the gold coinage was about seven- 
ty-five per cent, of the silver coinage. That 
whole period embraced the European war, 
and the first operations of the mint were to 
coin as much of the metals already in the 
country as came within their reach. In the 
second period, from 1821 to 1834, the elTcct 
of the change in the relative value of the 
metals of which we have spoken, became 
manifest, and the gold coinage was about 
one-sixth only of the silver coinage. In 
1834 the new gold bill produced a change, 
and the gold coinage became nearly eijual to 
that of silver. Soon after the passage of 
this law, the ])ayment of the French indem- 



216 



UNITED STATES MINT. 



nity, enforced under the administration of 
General Jackson, took place, and it was paid 
in tlie form of gold bars, of weight var) ing 
from twenty-five to six hundred and fifty 
ounces each. The first of them were received 
at the United States mint September, 1834, 
and from that date to September, 18.']8, six 
liundred of these bars were deposited at the 
mint; the value was §3,500,000. In 1838 
the branches came into operation, and the 
coinage was increased by their operations 
and by 10,705,250 of gold of domestic pro- 
duction, to the close" of 1848. In 1849 
California gold began to make its appear- 
ance, and ^7,079,144 worth of it was coined 
in that year. The great influx of gold bul- 
lion upon the mint by fur exceeded its capac- 
ity to do the work, and Congress author- 
ized, by the act of March 3d, 1849, the coin- 
age of double eagles, or $20 pieces, and 
also one dollar pieces to supply the place of 
the silver coin, which had been drained oti" 
to California in exchange for the gold, which 
sold as low as $15 and $10 per ounce, 
although wortli $20 and $21. The law of 
May, 1852, authorized the coinage of $3 
pieces. 

In ten years, to the close of 1848, the 
gold coinage had amounted to double the sil- 
ver coinage, and the new influx of gold excited 
fears that the value of silver would rise rap- 
idly as compared with gold. From 1848 
to 1857 the coinage of silver was very small, 
while the demand for it was large. To avoid 
inconvenience from this cause, a new bill 
was passed, to take eftect April 1st, 1853. 
By this bill it was enacted tliat gold or sil- 
ver deposited with the mint, might be cast 
into bars or ingots of pure metal, or stand/ird 
fineness, at the option of the depositor, with 
a stamp designating the weight and fineness; 
no pieces less than ten ouncies shall be other 
than of standard fineness ; the charge for 
this is one-half per cent. Inasmuch as most 
of the gold arrives at New York, efforts were 
made to procure the establishment of a mint 
at that point. Instead, however, of a mint, 
an assay office was established there, and a 
branch mint at San Francisco, in 1854. The 
law allows the depositor to draw either bars 
or coin in return, the description desired to 
be stated at the time of the deposit. The 
production of bars and coins under all these 
regulations has been large, for gold as well 
as silver. 

Until tlie law of 1834, tlie quantity of 
gold coin in circulation was not larfc. The 



banks supplied so large a quantity of small 
bills as to fill the channels of circulation for 
sums above a dollar, and under tliat amount 
the circulation was almost altogether small 
Spanish coins, which, being much depreci- 
ated bv we;:r and tear, passed for more than 
iheir intrinsic value, and consequently flood- 
ed the country, greatly influencing retail 
prices. This was paiticularly the case with 
the pistareens, which, up to 1827, were 
taken at twenty cents, or five to the dollar, 
although they were really worth but eighteen 
and a half cents, consequently there was lit- 
tle other change to be had. In conse<juence 
of a report of the Mint Director of that year, 
they \\ere refused at more than seventeen 
cents, and they very speedily disappeared 
from circulation, and liave not now been 
seen for more than 35 years. The quar- 
ters continued to circulate at twenty-five 
cents, although the average value was twen- 
ty-three and a half cents ; the eightlis were 
taken at twelve and a half, altliough they 
were worth only eleven and one-eighth ; the 
sixteenth was taken at six and a quarter, 
aUhough worth but five cents. It resulted 
that these coins became very abundant, driv- 
ing out the dimes and half dimes, and in 
1843 the post-ofl:ice and the banks refusing 
them altogether, tlicy were supplanted by 
the American coin, until the gold discover- 
ies of 1848. After that event, owing to the 
increased production of gold, and the fact 
that some of the European states changed 
their monetary policy, making silver the 
Sole standard of value, the latter metal be- 
came worth more in market than its nominal 
value in United States coin, and was gradu- 
ally withdrawn from the currency, until, in 
1852, silver coin became very scarce, and 
there was not sufficient left in circulation for 
the purposes of cluuige. A premium of four 
per cent, was paid for dollars and half dol- 
lars for export, and the smaller coins com- 
manded, in many cases, a still higher price, 
for use among shop-keepers and small tradei's. 
It was easy to see that, unless the weight of 
our silver coin was reduced, there would 
soon be none left in the country. Already 
the cating-lK>uses and drinking saloons had 
issued their tickets, or shinplaster tokens, in 
place of coin ; and the poor, wlio purchased 
the necessaries of life in small amounts, 
were put to great inconvenience, or obliged 
to submit to ruinous shaves upon their paper 
money. To remedy these evils, C()ngress 
passed the act of February 21st, 1853 (to 




1N-|-Kl;l()lt (IF THK MINT. PIIII.ADKM'H I A. CdlMXH UOi)M. 



|i!||)l|llllllilill)i;iH|ii!lli 



ifllililfl'tlll 







IXTKRIOR VIEW OF THE .MINT. I'UILADKI.l'UI A. AliJL'STING ROOJl. 



UNITED STATES MINT. 



217 



take ofFcct the 1st of April following), au- 
thorizing the coinage of half dollars, quarter 
dollars, d mes, and half dimes, weighing 
less than the old coin, as follows : 

Old coin. New coin. 

II !f dollar, prains. . . .2O6I4 192 

Qua t.T dollar, <lo lO.'J'g 96 

1 me, do 4114 38 2 5 

Hail dime, do 20^ 19 1-5 



The dollar was not changed, and the 
weight of that piece is 412 1-2 grains, the 
weight which it has borne since I80G ; this 

Philadelphia. New Orleans. 

I'it'i'is. Pieces. 

Pollars 1,621,000 875,000 

Half dollars 14,323,130 12,566,000 

Quarter dollars. . .23,089,430 2,348,000 

Dimes 7,236,380 2,350,000 

Half dimes 13,826,130 4,660 000 

3 cent pieces 4,222,230 720,000 

64,318,300 23,519,000 

In addition to this small silver coin, there 
has been coined since 1849, $18,900,000 in 
one dollar gold pieces. These were never, 
however, a popular coin. 

The main s^ource of supply of the precious 
metals to the mint was, before 1849, from 
abroad, through the operations of commerce, 
though the Southern States furnished almost 
fifteen millions. Since that time, the Pacific 
slope has been the leading .'■ource. The quan- 
tity of domestic gold deposited at the mint 
has been as follows : — 

DEPOSITS OF DOMESTIC COLD AT MIKT AND BRANCHES. 





To 1851. 


1851 to 185 


9, To 1870. 


Virfrinia, 


1,197,338 


327,977 


1,615,736 


N. Carolina, 


6,707,458 


2,236,951 


9,684,622 


S. Carolina, 


817,692 


462,913 


1,371,384 


Georgia, 


6,018,603 


782,270 


7 151,236 


Tennessee, 


76,574 


4,337 


81,530 


Alabama, 


186,627 


10,131 


206,041 


New Me.xico, 


38,963 


9,709 


523,133 


California, 


31,838,079 


419,472,761 


630,575,666 


Kansas, 




4,172 


5,008 


Orefjon, 




69,272 


10,738,134 


Other places 


41,103 


33,121 


106 596,699 



reduction of weight being fourteen and a 
half grains in the half dollar, or nearly seven 
per cent. The silver currency was not 
debased, in the ordinary sense of the word, 
the same fineness (nine hundred parts pure 
silver, and one hundred of alloy) being re- 
tained, and the only change in the coin itself 
being in the weight. A very important pro- 
vision, however, was made in regard to it ; 
it is not a legal tender in payment of debts 
in sums exceeding five dollars. 

The quantity of silver coined at the mint 
and branches, under the law of 1853, to 1870, 
has been as follows : — 



S. Franci.sco. 

Pieces. 

20,000 

11,163,450 

1 ,509,400 

2,160,750 

1,060,000 



Total, $46,922,437 $423,418,614 $768,019,189 

Of this lar<:e amount, $721,096,752 of cold 
deposited at the mint and its branches in the 
20 years, 18.51-1870, about $236,000,000 
was cast into bars, and exported, together 
with the surplus of coin, to Europe, as mer- 
chandise. The domestic silver supplied to 
the mint and brandies amounted in all to 
$12,558,244 up to June 30, 1870. The 



Total pieces. 

2,516,200 
38,052,580 
26,946,830 
11,747,130 
19,546,130 

4,942,000 



Value. 

2,516,000 

19,026,290 

6,736,709 

1,174,713 

977,306 

148,260 



15,913,600 103,750,670 $30,579,278 

largest amount, almost one-half, was parted 
from domestic gold, and $767,448 was from 
fine bars privately assayed. Isevada fur- 
nished almost $5,000,000. 

The amount of specie actually in the coun- 
try cannot be ascertained with perfect ac- 
curacy. The amount in the country in 1821 
was estimated at $37,000,000. Tlie calcula- 
tion, then, up to 1849, upon official figures, 
would be as follows ; — 



Specie in the country in 1821, 
Troduct of U. S. mines to 1849, 



$37,000,000 
13,811,206 



Imported 1821 to 1849, 
Exported " " 



242.2.39,061 50,811,206 
180,596,664 61,642,397 



Specie in the country in 1849, 



$112,453,603 



Of this amount, $43,619,000 was in the 
banks and $5,70(^,925 in the federal treas- 
ury ; $32,133,688 was probably in circula- 
tion, and $31,000,000 in plate and orna- 
ments. From 1849 to 1859 the amount 
was as follows : — 



In the country in 1849, 
Coinage, 1849 to 1859, 

Supply to 1 859, 
Import of the metal.s, 1849 

to 1859, 78,838,864 

Export in the same time, 435,023,906 

Excess export, 

In the country in 1859, 



$112,453,603 
529,619,919 

$642,073,522 



356,185,042 
$285,888,480 



218 



rXITED STATES MINT ^ 



This gives an increase of $173,434,877 of 
specie in the country to 18G0. The distri- 
bution of this money was nearly as follows : 

Stock in the country, $285,888,480 

United States t wisiiry, Si 0,000 ,000 
In all the banks, 10 (,537,818 

In plates ornaments, &c., 50,01)0,000 
In general circulation 121,350,6r)2 

$285,888,480 

Immigrants bring with them hirge sums of 
coin and bullion wliicli go either to the mint 
or the brokers for export. We may now 
ascertain the amount of money that circula- 
ted in the country in 1859, as follows : — 



Less notes on hand 



1849. 
16,4:>7,000 



1859. 

18,858,289 



Bank notes in circulat'n, 1 12,079,0t)0 174,448,529 
Specie in circulation, 32,133,688 121,3.50,662 



Total mixed circulat'n, $144,212,688 $295,799,191 
From 1859 to 1870 some new elements 
entered into the calculation. The suspen- 
sion of specie payments in 1861, led to hoard- 
ing and the disuse of specie in circulation, 
but the amount of gold and silver in the 
country was very nearly as follows : — 

Specie in the country in 1859, $285,888,480 

Accession from 1859 to 1870, 836,452,754 



Less export 1859 to 1870,, 



$1,122,341,2.34 
. 582,074,940 



$546,266,294 
Of this large amount, the United States 
Treasury held — 

At the end of 1 870, $107,802,280 

The National Banks held 26,307,251 

State binks and private banks about 104,000,000 

G<^ld brokers and speculators, 25,000,00.) 

riate, watches, ornaments, &c., 150,000,000 

Hoarded, 127,140,0( 



$540,259,531 
There was at this time, (Dec. 1870) of 
course no specie in general circulation, ex- 
cept the nickel and silver five and three cent 
jiieces, and the copper cents and two cent 
pieces, and these did not exceed $4,000,000 
or $5,000,000 in value. The circulating me- 
dium consisted of — 

Legal tender notes, (greenbacks) $356,101 ,086 

»actionai currency 39,995,089 

Gold certificates of deposit, 26,1 49,000 

National Bank Notes, 296,205,446 



$718,450,621 

The mint operates upon the various forms 
of the metals brought to it, and these are of 
great variety, from the most delicate i)lates 



and ornaments down to base alloys, and these 
are all included under the general term bul- 
lion, except United States coins. The bullion 
is either unwrought or manufactured. The 
first descrii)tion embraces gold dust, amalga- 
mated cakes and balls, laminated gold, melted 
bars and cakes. The " dust " is the shape in 
which it is derived by washing in the placer 
mines. In South America, Russia, and 
elsevyhere, amalgamated gold is that which 
has been procured by the use of quicksilver, 
forming a lump. Laminated gold is that 
which is combined with silver, and derived 
mostly from Central America. Both these 
kinds come to the mint in bars and cakes 
three inches wide, and one and a half thick, 
weighing 275 ounces, and are worth $5,9U0. 
The manufactured is mostly jewelry, jilate, 
and coin. Jewelry is received at the mint 
in every variety of article into the manufac- 
ture of which gold enters. Its value depend^ 
upon the quantity of pure gold in it, aiid this 
requires to be extracted by assaying. The 
range of fineness of the better kinds of jew- 
elry is 300 to 600, or from 1 3 to 2-3 the 
value of coin of the same weight, but the 
cheaper kinds contain very little gnld. All 
this mass of metal must be reduced to a uni- 
form material, containing the proper propor- 
tion of alloy, and cast in bars, 1 2 in. long, 
i in. thick, and from 1 to 1| in breadth, ac- 
cording to the size of the coin to be struck. 
The-e are tested to see if they are of the legal 
fineness. They are then annealed, and rolled 
into long thin strips by means of a steam en- 
gine. These strips are tlien drawn through 
plates of the hardeststeel, to proper thickness, 
and by a steam press cut into '• planchets " 
or pieces of the exact size of the coin wanted, 
at the rate of 160 per minute. These are 
then cleaned, annealed, whitened, weighed, 
and placed in a tube, which slides them one 
by one into a steel collar, in which they fit. 
The piece is seized, stamped with perfect im- 
pressions on both sides by the dies, and in- 
stantly pushed away to be followed by ano- 
ther piece. The devices on these dies are first 
cut in soft steel. This " original die " is then 
hardened, and is used to impress a piece of 
soft steel, which is then like a coin with the 
figures raised, and is called a " nub." This 
being again hardened, is used to impress the 
dies, with which the coining is done, and a 
pair of them will do two weeks' work. Tlie 
coining presses are of sizes proportionate to 
the work. 



INSURANCE-FIRE AND MARINE. 



The history of Fire Insurance dates back 
only to the year followinir tlie Great Fire in 
London in IGliO, if indeed it can be said to 
have had any clearly defined existence be- 
fore the year IGOG, when the first or2;anized 
association was formed, based upon the sim- 
ple principle of contribution in the shape of 
annual premiums proportionate to the 
amount of property insured, to a common 
fund, out of which the losses of its various 
members were to l)e made good. This as- 
sociation was very appropriately styled the 
'' Hand in Hand, or Amicable Contribution 
Society," and was strictly mutual in cliarac- 
ter. A number of attempts had been made 
for some system of Fire Insurance as early 
as 1669, all of which proved abortive, as 
did the attempt of the City of London in 
1681 to settle lands and ground rents to the 
value of £ 1 0",( 100, together with the sums 
to be received for premiums, as a fund for 
the insurance of houses. About the year 
1 670 a com))any was established in Edinburgh 
for friendly insurance against fire, consi.-ting 
of a numl>er of private contributors, who 
agreed to insure each other. This insur- 
ance, howewr, w'as not personal, like modern 
fire insurance, but the interest, and stock, 
and l)eneHt were inseparably annexed to the 
houses insured as long as the contribution 
was continued. Little progress was made 
imder any of these forms before the com- 
mencement of the eighteenth century, when 
the Sim Fire Othce in London was estab- 
lished in 1710, from which time Fire Insur- 
ance may l)e said to date its progress under 
the form of both mutual and stock compan- 
ies. The limited experience obtained up to 
that time, had given some general notions as 
to hazards of dil^'erent classes of property, 
and by enabling a proper rate to be fixed 
propoitionate to the hazard, had so far re- 
duced tlie rates charged as to render insur- 
ance easily obtainable and popular. From 
this time companies multiplied in England, 
and previous to the war of our revolution 
had numerous agencies in the then Colonies. 
In otlier countries of Europe the practice of 
insuring against fire was not introduced until 
a much later period, about 1754, when the 



marine companies in Paris obtained permis- 
sion from the government to make insurances 
against fire. For a long time the practi<'e 
was by no means general. Owing to the 
solid structure of their buildings and the ex- 
traordinary caution on the part of the people 
for the prevention of fires, few sought pro- 
tection by means of insurance. It has been 
confidently asserted by persons well ac- 
quainted with both the cities of I^ondon and 
Amsterdam, that after making all fair allow- 
ances there is upon an average more pro- 
perty destroyed by fire in the former in one 
year than in the latter in twenty. Fire In- 
surance has, however, now become very 
general, and some of the continental com- 
panies are the largest and strongest in the 
world. 

The first Fire Insurance Company organ- 
ized in the United States was the "• Philadel- 
phia Contributionship for insuring houses 
from loss by fire," in 1752. Th s was pure- 
ly a mutual company, requiring a depo-^it 
from the insured, the interest of which would 
meet the losses of each year and yifld some- 
thing over for a dividend at the termination 
of the risk, which was for seven years. The 
])lan was borrowed from the first English 
company of similar name, and the company 
numbered among its directors Dr. Franklin 
and otlier men eminent in colonial and revo- 
lutionary times. For many years after the 
peace of 1783, an insurance company, on 
the principle of the ancient London " Hand 
in Hand," existed in New York, and con- 
tinued to do a moderate business un:il incor- 
porated companies with capital stock became 
common and superceded the mutual plan, 
which was found to be too slow and cum- 
brous for the growing business of that city. 
The first stock company formed in tiie 
United States was the Insurance Company 
of North America in Philadelphia in 1794. 
Others followed hi Providence, Boston, and 
New York from that time until a few years 
after the beginning of the present century, 
when Fire Insurance in this country may be 
said to have been established on essentially 
the same general principles as at present 
conducted. The first quarter of this cen- 



220 



INSURANCE — FIRE AND MARINE. 



tury witnessed a moderate growth ; the 
second quarter made some progress, not- 
witlistanding the two great fires, and ended 
with a moderate increase in capital and 
business. The extensive and enormous de- 
velopment of fire insurance in this country 
has been the work of the last twenty-five 
years, during which time a radical change 
lias been wrought in the mode of doing the 
business by stock companies instead of mu- 
tual, and by the present wide spread and 
almost universal system of agencies. 

In 18.'58, previous to which we have no 
reliable statistical information, there were in 
the City of New York some eighteen Fire 
Insurance Companies, with an aggregate 
capital of a little over f 6,000,000, one of 
which had a capital of SI, 000,000, and three 
others had $.")()(l,00<> each, while the remain- 
ing capitals ranged from $200,000 to $3;30,- 
000. It would be interesting to know the 
exact amount of premiums annually received 
by these companies at that date, but having 
no reliable statistics to refer to, an approxi- 
mate estimate can only be formed, based 
upon the recollection of parties who were 
then connected with certain of those institu- 
tions. From the last data of this kind now 
available it is ascertained quite satisfactorily 
that the whole amount of premiums received 
by all tlie companies in that and the two 
following years respectively, was something 
less than $1,000,000. At that time there 
were no agencies of companies of other 
states, or foreijin companies, in the State of 
New York, the English companies having 
been excluded by a law passed March, 1814. 
From 1S33 to December, 1835, seven new 
companies were organized, with an aggregate 
capital of about $1,700,000, making the en- 
tire fire insurance ca])ital at the time of the 
great fire in December of the latter year a 
little less than $8,000,000. The great fire 
of 183.5, which destroyed about six hundred 
buildings, mostly stores and warehouses, and 
property to the value of between $1 5,000,000 
and $20,000,000, caused the insolvency of 
all but seven of the companies then in exis- 
tence in that city, thus reducing the actual 
capital for fire insurance to about $1,000,000. 
The insolvent companies paid variously from 
40 to yO per cent, on the claims for losses 
under their policies. During the next ten 
years many of the companies were revived 
under favorable legislation and new com- 
panies organized, so that the fire insurance 



capital of New York and Brooklyn amount- 
ed to about $6,000,000 ; to which should be 
added a considerable number of mutual 
com])anies and agencies of Hartford and 
Boson companies, which were then estab- 
lished for the first time to any considerable 
extent in that city. The great fire of July, 
1845, swept most of these mutuals and again 
several of the stock companies into insolv- 
ency, and left a large number with capitals 
seriously impaired. Of the companies ren- 
dered insolvent by this last calamity, none 
e\er revived. From this time tliere was 
little increase in companies or capital until 
the passage of the general insurance law by 
the State of New York in 1849, under which, 
and the law of 1853, which took its place, a 
very large number of the companies were 
organized in the City of New York, thus 
bringing the aggregate fire insurance capital 
of the state at the end of 1870 up to over 
twenty-nine millions of dollars, again, how- 
ever, reduced at the end of 1871 to a trifle 
over twenty-two millions by the great fire 
at Chicago. The progress of fire insurance 
in the City of New York may be taken as 
a fair criterion by which to judge of its pro- 
gress in other prominent cities of our coun- 
try. Philadelphia and Boston have not ex- 
perienced such sudden fluctuations in capital 
as New York, having escaped fires of mag- 
nitude like those of 1835 and 1845. The 
older companies in both cities have been 
noted for solidity and conservatism. To 
Hartford belongs the credit of originating 
and giving vitality to the agency system in 
fire insurance. For a time, indeed, that city 
had almost a monopoly of the agency fire 
business, and is now second to none in the 
country in the character, position, and finan- 
cial strength of its companies. The busi- 
ness has proved a source of wealth to that 
city, and it now has more insurance capital 
in proportion to its size than any other city 
in the country. Within the past fifteen 
years a great number of companies have 
been started in the prominent cities of the 
west, with more or less success. Such as 
have been organized with actual capital and 
prudently managed have generally succeeded, 
with the exception of the Chicago companies, 
which were engulfed in the terrible disas- 
ter of October, 1871. The past thirty years 
have witnessed the rise and extinction of 
hundreds of mutual and stock companies of 
purely speculative character, which never 



INSUHANCE riUE AND MARINE. 



221 



deserved public confidence, and soon met the 
fate which alway:^ attends corporations or- 
ganized with fVaudidcnt purpose or managed 
by incompetent men. To one of tliese 
causes may be attributed the faihire of near- 
ly all the companies which have gone down 
during tliat time, except such as have been 
overwhelmed in one or the other of the 
three great (ires already referred to. IMany 
strong and well managed companies have 
been swept away before the great cyclones 
of fire which have more than once marked 
the history of the past forty years, and in 
yielding to inevitable and unav()idal)le ca- 
lamity have secured the commendation rather 
than censure of the public ; while such cor- 
porations, whether mutual or stock, as have 
been conceived in fraud and designed to jirey 
upon the credulity or ignorance of the as- 
sured deserve only contempt and the sever- 
est punishment of the managers through 
whom such vast injury has been done to the 
insuring public. 

Of this class of companies, those of a 
mutual character have been most noticeable 
for the injiny which has been inflicted on 
the insured and the disrejnite into which the 
business of fire insurance was brought in 
the ten years following 1850. Under the 
general insurance law of 1849 a large nuin- 
ber of mutual companies were organized in 
the State of New York, and in 1853 num- 
bered G2, with nominal assets in excess of 
eleven and a half millions of dollars. In 
1860 the number had fallen to 27, with as- 
sets less than four and a quarter millions, 
and in 1870 only eight companies were in 
existence, with assets of about two and a 
quarter millions. In the State of New York 
the system of mutual insurance has 2:)roved 
a signal failure. In Massachusetts, at the 
close of 1849, sixty mutual companies were 
in existence, and at the close of 18G8 the 
number had been reduced to 54, with gross 
assets of S.'>,9'.)i ',,"67.00, and outstanding 
risks to the amount of $;i07,063,988.(»;'). 
Most of these are located in the interior of 
the state, and are so small as to make the 
policies of comjiaratively little value, since, 
to pay losses, assessments are required, and 
these, if of any considerable magnitude, are 
fatal to the standing of the companies. The 
mutual system in INIassachusetts is adapted 
only to the immediate locality of the com- 
panies, and scM'ms to be gradually following 
the fiite of the system in New York, as will 



be noticed in the fact that the entire premium 
receipts of all the mutual fire insurance com- 
panies in that state do not exceed one-third 
of those of the ^I^tna of Hartford, or one- 
half those of the Home of New York, while 
the premimns of nearly a dozen stock com- 
panies separately ecpial the entire aggregate. 
In Vermont the system has been tried for 
more than forty years by the Vermont Mu- 
tual with better results, owing to the excel- 
lent management of the company, and tho 
fact that its business has ever been confined 
exclusively to risks in that state. In other 
states of the Union mutual companies have 
shared the same fate as those of New York, 
and it would seem that the system, as such, 
is totally inadequate to the growing demands 
of trade and the increasing value of property 
to be insured. 

It is a noticeable fact that in 1837 there 
were 48 joint stock companies in Massa- 
chusetts, with a combined capital of St),415,- 
000, while in 1868 there were only 29 com- 
panies, with a capital stock of $6,934,800. 
Comparing, however, the business of the 
companies, it will be found that the 48 com- 
panies in 1837 were insuring fire and marine 
risks to the amount of on"]y $140,000,000, 
while the 29 comjxanies in 1868 had $330,- 
000,000 at risk. The increase of risks as- 
sumed in that state by companies from other 
states for the 16 years previous to 1869, was 
even more marked than that of the state 
companies, having risen from $6,373,000 in 
1852 to $250,000,000 in 1868. The devel- 
opment of the joint stock plan of fire in- 
surance in the State of New York has been 
equally remarkable. In 1844 there were 
"20 companies, having an aggregate capital 
of $5,710,000, with amount" nisured $119,- 
571,000, while in 1870 the number had in- 
creased to 105, with an aggregate capital of 
29,701,232, and amount insured $2,813,- 
983,769. The nundier of companies in the 
state at the end of 1871 was rc(lu('ed by the 
great fire at Chicago to 84, with capital of 
$22,307,010, and amount of :^sks covered 
$2,397,339.63. It may be proper to note 
in this connection the increase of capital in 
companies from other states doing business 
in the State of New York from $12,351,315 
with $567,887,673 at risk in 1859, to $22,- 
971,101 for capital in 1870, with risks $1,- 
695,633,560. 

The following table, compiled from offi- 
cial reports of com2)anies doing business iu 



222 



INSURANCE FIKE AND MARINE. 



the State of New York from 18o9 to 1871 
inclusive, shows the increase of capital in- 
vested in the business of fire insurance (lur- 
ing that time, and the amount of dividends 
declared from year to year, with the yearly 
percenUige and the average percentage for 
the whole period. 



TEAR. 


CAPITAL. 


BITIDENDS. 


PERCENTAGE. 


1859 


$!32,358,.'515 


$4,.W5,.350 74 


14.19 


1860 


29,99S,7t;o 


3,S3i;,141.H7 


12.78 


1861 


29,o^l,'i()0 


8,250,749.76 


10.06 


1862 


29,S.34,20() 


3,324,506.01 


11.11 


1863 


3;!,24<;,7l)0 


3,667,331.51 


10.72 


1864 


41,Gi;9,9t5 


4,141,374.42 


9.94 


1865 


44,282 750 


4,616,607.11 


10.42 


18C6 


44,410,350 


3,369,250.70 


7.81 


1867 


45,611,232 


3,774,326.96 


8.27 


1868 


49.aSl,194 


6,051,796.38 


10.24 


1809 


51,118,i;()2 


6.252,779.39 


12.23 


1870 


52,732.333 


6,509,998.68 


12 34 


1371 


43,857,010 


4,834,880.00 


11.02 


Aggregate, 


§527,795,771 


$57,125,153.63 


10.82 



This table embraces a very large propor- 
tion of all the American companies, as near- 
1}^ all fire companies seek to do business in 
the State of New York, and in order to do 
so have to make annual reports, which form 
the basis of this table. As near as can be 
ascertained the entire fire insurance capital 
of the country at the close of 1870 amounted 
to SGo,Ol)0,<)00. It will be noticed that the 
average dividends on this enormous amount 
of capital has been less than 11 per cent, 
during the past thirteen years. If the loss 
of capital itself during that time be taken 
into accoiuit, it is doubtful if the average 
dividends Avould amount to nine ]ier cent., a 
figure by no means unreasonable for income 
on capital subjected to such fearful hazards 
as those of fire insurance. It is fair to as- 
sume that the capital of all the companies 
not reporting to the New York Department 
has yielded about the same average divi- 
dends, and as the capital would of itself earn 
at least seven per cent., there remains only 
about two per cent, for the profits of the 
business, as, such, a figure quite insignificant 
in view of the nature of the business and 
the risk assumed. 

It may be interesting to note the increase 
in the amount of j)remiuins received, and the 
fiuctuations in the amount of losses, with 
the various yearly percentage of losses to 
premiums, as will appear by the following 
table, showing tlu; .same for the ])ast thir- 
teen years, compiled from official sources 



and embracing the same companies as the 
foregoing table. 



1S,59 
1860 
1S61 
18;,2 
18:i3 
1864 
1865 
1866 
1867 
1868 
1S69 
1S70 
1871 



Afrsresate. 



FIRE PREM. REC D. 



114,413,458.56 
11,S66,548.45 
10,.-i27 ,327.76 
11,308.418.99 
14,019,658.13 
20,141,152.68 
25,419,589.55 
32,281,404.76 
36,162.138.45 
37,395,740.25 
39,353,578.57 
37.237.621.73 
36,984,570.00 



S327 ,111, 207.88 



FIRE LOSSES PAID. 



$8,031,247.41 

6,993,630.90 

6,249,689.79 

7,056 731 ..57 

5,656,975.64 

113.56,624.97 

17,264.6I8.a3 

23.913,745.87 

20,818,269.87 

19,283.979.11 

20,0.54.341. SO 

21,869,44(1.75 

31,504,180.00 



?i2f^0,053,476.01 



55.72 
68.1.3 
59.36 
6240 
40.35 
56.38 
67.91 
74.07 
57.56 
61.56 
50.95 
58.72 
85.18 



61.15 



Thus it will be seen that the leading Ame- 
rican fire companies lost over Gl ])er cent, 
of their premium receipts from 1850 to 1871 
inclusive. 

It is proper to remark that the New Y^ork 
Report for 1867, embracing the New York 
Companies doing Fire, Inland, and Marine 
business from 1848 to 18GG inclusive, gives 
over 63 per cent, of losses to premiums for 
that period ; while the strictly mutual state 
comjianies from 1858 to 18G7 inclusive suf- 
fered a loss of over 61 per cent. The fire 
conipanies in Massachusetts from 1858 to 
18G6 inclusive paid for losses 07 per cent., 
and conipanies from other states, doing fire 
business in that state, over 59 per cent, for 
the same period, or an aggregate loss on 
both classes of companies of over GO per 
cent. The great fire at Chicago increased 
the general average of the last thirteen years 
at least one per cent, above the normal aver- 
age. It will therefore be safe to assume 60 
per cent, as the average for the last thirty 
or forty years of fire losses in this country 
to premium receipts. 

The expenses of management form an im- 
portant item in the history ot fire in.-urance, 
and have not only exercised a great infiuence 
on the profitableness of the business but 
also on the character of the business done. 
The increa.se of the commission to brokers 
and agents in 18G5 from ten to fifteen per 
cent., no doubt had a bad influence on the 
general conduct of the business, aside from 
the increased losses on risks influenced by 
the increased commission. 

The following table shows the cash pre- 
miums received and expenses paid, with 
average percentage for time named : 



INSURANCE — FIRE AND MARINE. 



223 



1859 
IStiO 
18(il 
1862 
18t)3 
18i4 
1865 
1866 
1867 
1868 
1869 
1870 
1871 



Aggregate 



NET CASH PREM'S 

REOBIVKD, I.V- 
CLCDIMO INLAND. 



13,7aU 
l'J,4<)0 
13,404 
lt!,4l4 
23,843 
29,519 
38, Sir 
42,23'j 
43,0-.'3 
45.024 
42,593 
40,818 



112.94 
,702.49 
,645.09 
,697.62 
,2-3.94 
521.89 
092.28 
,492.27 
059.;8 
,947 81 
,145.51 
,085.68 
,312 00 



s«.376.430,998.90 



f.xpend's, less 

rilVI)'.S, losses, AM) 
AMOUNT PAID IN 

INTERE.1T ON SCRIP 
AND REDEMPTION. 



$4,004 
3,741 
3,484 
3,569 
4,500 
6,861 
9,403 
11,791 
13,124 
13,874 
14,924 
15,128 
10,879 



,557.39 
,323.S6 
593.73 
,905.98 
.850. .50 
90.2.'> 
,i;34.28 
,3t;9.66 
292.14 
810.99 
,36ti. 16 
,290.1)6 
,392.00 



$115,288,677.60 



PER CEXT. 



27M 
27.20 
28.10 
26.63 
27.42 
28.77 
31.85 
30.33 
31.07 
32.24 
33.14 
35.51 
26.65 



30.62 



From this table it appears that the aver- 
age expenses of American Companies is not 
less than 30 per cent, of the premiums re- 
ceived. This ligure, however, inchides taxes 
on capital, which in most of the states are 
paid by the com]ianies. The ex[>enses of 
companies in Enjriand average about 31 per 
cent. ; tho.^e of France about the same, while 
those of Germany average about tliirty per 
cent. If, therefore, we assume thirty per 
cent., in round numbers, as the average ex- 
pense of conducting the business, we shall 
not be fur from the absolute figure. Com- 



bining the ratio of losses with that of ex- 
penses, we find a margin of only one-tenth 
of the premium received for profit, loss of 
capital, swecpiiKj conflagrations, and rpidemic 
periods. How far this can be trifled with 
by ignorance or credulity the pul)lic mind 
must judge for itself. To the intelligent and 
prudent property-holder these figures are 
full of meaning and admonition. 

Thus far attention has been directed to 
the profits of underwriting and only inferen- 
tially to the adjustment of rates to hazards. 
The comparison of lo.-ses and expenses with 
premiums will go far towards enal)ling the 
practical underwriter to form a correct judg- 
ment, in view of past rates and experience, 
on individual ri.sks ; but to the political econ- 
omist it is of first importance to know the 
absolute relation between losses and amount 
of property insured, the actual amount of 
risks assumed to each dollar of lo-s, and the 
average rate of premium on ri-ks written, 
as affording some safe criterion of ju<lgment 
as to the aspect of the busine.-^s as a whole. 
With this view the following talde has been 
prepared, emln-acing twelve years, from 1860 
to 1871 inclusive : 







FIRE PREMIUMS 






5 o3 




_% a 


TEAR. 


FIRE RISKS WRITTEN. 




FIRE LOSSES P.AID. 




g"^ « d 


° s 


s^ia 






RECEIVED. 




u ^^ 


i. .b. •.- -2 




tt-'^ 










Its 


C-<»- o t 


E.I* 


»<«•- 












o 2 S 
.4323 


231.27 


< O-:^ 


1860 


$1,617,4.39,267 


$n,866,.548.45 


$6,993,630.90 


58.93 


.7.3.36 


1861 


1,530,019,235 


10,527,327.76 


6,249,689 79 


59.36 


.4084 


244.81 


.6880 


1862 


1,729,988,571 


11,308,418.99 


7,0,56,731.57 


62.40 


.4079 


245.15 


.6.536 


186.3 


2,150,200,798 


14,019,658.13 


5,056,975.64 


40.35 


.2630 


380.09 


.6520 


1864 


3, 166, .532,904 


20,141,152.68 


11,356,624.97 


56.38 


.3586 


278.82 


.6360 


1865 


3,428,105,224 


25,419,589.55 


17,264,618.33 


67.91 


.5036 


198.56 


.7415 


1866 


3,930,048,321 


32,281.404.76 


23,913,745.87 


74.07 


.6084 


164.34 


.8213 


1867 


3,812,294,907 


36,162,1.38.45 


20,818,269.87 


57.56 


.5460 


183.12 


.9485 


186S 


4,169,495,474 


37,.395,740.25 


19,28.3,979.11 


51.56 


.4625 


216.21 


.8908 


1869 


4,454.808,663 


39,353,57S.57 


20,0.54,341.80 


50.95 


.4.501 


222.13 


.8833 


1870 


4,509,617,329 


37,237,621.73 


21,869.440.75 


58.72 


.4849 


206. L'O 


.8257 


1871 


4,204,798,338 


36,984,570.00 


31,504,180.00 


85.18 


.7492 


133.46 


.8795 


Ag^'re;^r:ite, 


$38,703,349,031 


$312,697,749.32 


$192,022,228.60 


61.40 


.4901 


201.55 


.8079 



During these eventful twelve j^ears the 
amount insured has more than doubled, hav- 
ing reac^hcd in 1^70 more than four thousand 
five hundred millions of dollars. '1 he gro>s 
premiums have more than tripled, having 
risen from k^ss than twelve millions in 18G0 
to nearly thirty-.'^even millions in 1871. The 
losses also increased from less than seven 
millions in IXV) to more tlian twenty-one 
millions in 187<\ and more than thirty-one 
millions in 1871, hicluding losses paid at 



Chicago. The most alarming feature is, 
however, found in the enormous increase of 
the percentage of losses to amount insured 
from .4323 to .4811) in 1,S7<>, or .741)2 in 
1871, including the Chicago fire, or a general 
average for the twelve years of .4;t6l. This 
fact is full of meaning, and shows that the 
losses by fii-e have more than doubled in 
that time, a fact well calculated to call at- 
tention to the cau-es which have produced, 
in so short a time, so fearful an increase in 



224 



INSURANCE riKE AND MARINE. 



the destruction of |)roi)erty in this country 
by fire. When it is considend that every 
loss of property by fire, whether insured or 
not, is a k)S3 to the comtnon wealth of the 
country, the import of tliese figures will be 
more fully appreciated. So. great, indeed, 
has become the destruction of property by 
iire, that it has been doubted even by wise 
and intelligent persons whether, in a general 
or national point of view, the benefits re- 
sulting from insurance are not more than 
counterbalanced by the mischief it occasions. 
The objections in that point of view which 
have been urged arc, carelessness and inat- 
teution which security by insurance naturally 
creates, and the temptation to arson engen- 
dered by it. But though it must be admit- 
ted that this species of insurance has been 
oftentimes the cause of lu^es, the benefits 
really outweigh the mischiefs ascribed to it, 
and it would at tliis day he diificult to con- 
ceive liow the vast movements of trade and 
manufacture could be carried on without the 
protection of fire insurance. The immense 
accumulations of merchandise demand it, 
and notwithstanding the serious objections 
.«tated, it is essential to credit and the great 
industrial interests of the country. The 
general jM-actice marks tlie civilization of the 
age in which we live, and has now become 
indisi)ensible to the interests of trade and 
progress. 

"With all the development made in this 
importunt branch of ])olitical economy there 
yet remains much to be done before the 
business of fire insurance will be reduced to 
anything like the exactness its importance 
demands. JNIany reforms must be intro- 
duced, systematic statistics on fire insurance 
nuist be obtained and classified so as to af- 
ford a scientific basis on which the business 
should be conducted. The evils of over in- 
sui-ance,so productive of incendiarism ; loose 
underwriting; hasty adjustment and pay- 
ment of losi-es, as an encouragement to crim- 
inal carelessness or positive fraud, witli nu- 
merous irregularities that have insidiously 
crept in upon the business, must hv, cori'ected 
before it can claim the high rank to which 
it is entitled. 

There is a great law of average gov(;rning 
the business, cettain and nniver.-al as the 
law of gravitation, though it is as yet im- 
perfectly understood. lis principles are even 
now sulliciently well known to afford a safe 



guide for the practical administration of the 
business, and with a wise caution on the part 
of the pulilic there is little danger that a 
business like that of fire insurance, com- 
manding as it does its full share of skill, 
talent, integrity, and honor, will be wantonly 
thrown into the hands of men or corpora- 
tions devoid of all these qualities. It is a 
matter of jiublic concern that these gnat 
interests, so intimately interwoven with all 
the industrial pursuits of the country, should 
be so conducted as to lessen one of the bur- 
dens that now presses so heavily upon them. 
Such should be the aim of those to whom 
these interests are entrusted, to the end that 
undoul)ted indemnily may be secured to 
the insured and profit to the capital invest- 
ed. 

Marine Insurance is of a much older 
date than fire, and is supposed lo have ex- 
isted under the early Koman Emjjerois. 

The Lombards from Italy introduced ma- 
rine underwriting into Englaiul about the 
end of the 1 4th century. The first organized 
Company in New York was the New Yoik 
Insurance Company in 17i)C), with a caj)ital 
of $">iiO,0()0. The business has increased 
under Stock and JMutual Companies until 
the total assets in 18()0 were S'Jl.iSGy,!'.'^*, 
and in 1871 S2.i,874,14C. Total losses for 
same time were §138,Co8,0Gl. 

The "United States Lloyds," of New 
Yorls, is composed of 100 individual under- 
writers, who have each paid into the com- 
mon fund or capital SI, 000, and each of 
whom is personally liable for at least an 
hundredth part of each and every risk taken 
by the attorne} s of the association. 

'1 he Fire and Jlarh;e Comi;:inies of 
Massachusetts in 18G8 insured $ 104. 6^4.- 
906 — received $2,4.")8,2.'»G premiums, and 
susta'md losses to the amount of SI .7i'9,872. 
Many of the fire companies assume also In- 
land i-isks on our Western rivers and lakes, 
and there are a large number of companies 
scattered along the great rivers of the west 
devoted exclusively to this class of business. 
It is, however, impos-ible to obtain informa- 
tion sulliciently aceuiate to warrant any gen- 
eial classification. 

'J he business of marine insurance has 
made rapid progress within the last fifty 
years under ihe mutual plan, whidi seems 
to he the only system adapti d to its success- 
ful pro-ecutiou in this country. 




HOOK AKD LADDER HOSE CAHKAlGE. AM; MODEKN HAXD FIRE ENGINE. WITH SUCTION AND FORCE PUMPS. 



LIFE INSURANCE. 



Life Insurance treats human life as pro- 
ductive capital, as haviiiif absolute and defi- 
nite money value, and oilers indemnity 
against its loss. Every person engaged in 
a productive industry, or whose income de- 
pends in any degree upon his labor, skill, or 
care, is worih in money to those de])endent 
upon him what he earns, and is to earn for 
them during the period he may expect to 
liv(! according to the average duration of 
life among men of his age. If he die pre- 
maturely, his dependents lose just so much 
capital or money as would be earned by 
him had he lived his full limit. Life insur- 
ance brings together the men so situated, 
and upon their contributing to a common 
fund, according to their several chances of 
dying, according to the law of mortality, 
undertakes to rephice to the surviving de 
pendents the capital lost by the death of 
him who produced it for them. 

As regards the individual, nothing is so 
uncertain as the time of his death ; as re- 
gards the multitude, nothing is so uncertain 
as what individuals will die first, or witiiin 
a given time ; but, on the other hand, noth- 
ing is so certain as tliat the individual must 
die at some time : and that among the mul- 
titude, the individuals will die at a certain 
rate until all are gone. To ascertain the 
rate of death or mortality, is therefore the 
consideration of first importance to a Life 
Insurance Company. This can be done 
only by a long and careful observation of a 
number of lives sufficiently large to give a 
uniform operation of the law of average in 
each year. Many tables of mortality, more 
or less imperfect, according to the circum- 
stances of their construction, have been pre- 
pared and used. Those in use in modern 
offices are principally four, the Carlisle, the 
Actuaries, Farr's Table No. 3, and the 
American Experience. Any of these seem, 

*14 



by the experience of American companies 
at least, to place the rate of mortality so 
high as to make them safe guides for offices 
which accept only sound lives, as is gener- 
ally the case. Experience proves the rate 
to be an increasing one ; tliat is, the pro- 
portion of the dying to the li\ ing, increases 
with each year of age ; in consc(iuence of 
which tlie contribution each person insured 
would be called upon to make in payment 
of policies of decedents would considera- 
bly increase from year to year. For exam- 
ple, suppose 10,000 persons mutually insur- 
ing each other for $10,000 each, at the age 
of 30 ; the first year each survivor would 
have to contribute $84.7 1 to pay the losses 
occurring during that year. In the tenth 
year he would have to pay $102.0;j ; in the 
twentieth year, $152.G4; in the thirtieth 
year, $207.9(5, nearly a thousand dollars in 
the forty-fifth year, over two thousand in 
the fifty-fifth year, and so on. It was found 
necessary to devise means whereby a com- 
pany could provide the increasing sums 
necessary to pay its increasing l(j(*ses, and at 
the same time demand from its members no 
increase of their annual contriljution or pre- 
mium. This could only be done l)y charging 
a premium in excess of tlie losses for the 
first years of tlie contract, and reserving the 
excess to meet the future rai)id losses. This 
accounts for the large accumulation of assets 
l)y the life offices, as compared with the 
lire. To take the example just given : 
Suppose the company assumes that it can 
earn four per cent, compound interest, on 
any investments for the next seventy years, 
and ciifxrges each of the ten thousaml mem- 
bers $l(J'J.72 each, for life : it will receive 
for the first year $1,6117,200, pay out $840,- 
<»()0 for losses, and have in reserve, from 
the premiums and interest, $:);50,700 invest- 
ed in some sort of proper assets ; the second 
(225) 



226 



LIFE INSUKANCE. 



year it will receive in premiums $1,682,942, 
and pay for losses $850,()U0, and have in 
reserve, from premiums, interest, and former 
reserve, $1,875,512: tlie fifth year it will 
receive in premiums $1,639,156, pay for 
losses $880,000, and have in reserve, from 
premiums, interest, and former reserves, $4,- 
793,169 ; the tenth year it will receive in 
premiums $1,562,782, pay for losses $930,- 
000, and have in reserve, from premiums, 
interest, and former reserves, $9,936,629 
the twentieth year it will receive in premi- 
ums $1,388,479, pay for losses $l,23O,0()0, 
and have in reserve $20,721,981: in the 
thirtieth year it will receive in premiums 
$1,101,14:!, pay for losses, $1,890,000, and 
have in reserve $27,423,210: the highest 
reserve will be in the thirty-third year, when 
the premium receipts will be $996,596, 
losses $2,140,000, and the reserve $27,913,- 
843 : in the fortieth year the premium re- 
ceipts will be $705,017, the losses, $2,650,- 
000, and the reserve, $24,690,628; the 
reserve is now being constantly drawn 
upon to pay losses which have really ex- 
ceeded tlie premium receipts since the 
twenty-third year ; the fiftieth year the 
premium receipts will be $261,538, loss- 
es §2,300,000, and reserve, $10,428,688: 
the sixtieth year the premium receipts 
will be $25,797, losses $630,000, reserve 
$1,310,591 : in the sixty-seventh year the 
premium receipts will be only $339, losses 
$20,000, reserve $18,484, and only two 
persons left alive, who will die within the 



next three years, and the $18,484 reserve, 
with the additional jiremiums to be paid by 
them, and the four per cent, interest will 
provide the $10,000 to be p:nd at the death 
of each, and leave not a cent in the hands 
of the company. Every dollar of the vast 
accumulatiou it once held was reserved | 
against a day of certain need, and went in 
its appointed time to its appointed owner, 
according to the law of mortality. | 

The constant additions of new lives, pro- ' 
cured by the companies, jirevents any such 
extinction of assets as is above shown, by 
replacing the reserves withdrawn by old 
members, with those derived from the new. 
There is always in progress, the practical 
substitution of a new company for an old 
one. 

No enterprise has had more rapid growth in 
this country within the last ten years, than 
Life Insurance. On the first of January, 
1871, there were 113 companies incorpo- 
rated by the several States ; these had in 
force 834,498 policies, insuring the immense 
sum of $2,263,438,213. The necessary 
reserve to j^rovide for the ultimate payment 
of this sum was, at that date, about $250,- 
000,000, and they held assets amounting to 
$300,616,056. Over 620,000 of these poli- 
cies were issued by only 24 com2:>anies, who 
also held over $232,000,000 of the entire 
amount of assets held by all the companies. 
The following table shows the distribution 
of this business by States: 



state. 


No. of Co"3. 


No. of Policies. 


Amount insured. 


Amount of Assets. 


Average amount of 
Assets to each Co. 


Maine, - - - 


1 


15,852 


830,008,300 


$5,295,?33 




Vermont, - 


2 


8,494 


6,5iK),326 


1.075,111 


8537,555 50 


Massachusetts, - 


6 


52,137 


135,189,840 


17,724.629 


2,954,104.66 


Khode Island, - 


1 


2,743 


6,359,718 


hl7,897 




Connecticut, 


9 


177 ,'3 1 6 


447,207,886 


65,373,407 


7,263,600.00 


New York, 


41 


377,744 


1,048,S89,779 


133,546.120 


3.257.222.43 


New Jersey, 


4 


45,389 


148,793,850 


23 343,275 


5,835,818.75 


Pennsylvania, - 


6 


*23,778 


64,493,461 


16,519,647 


2,753,274 50 


Maryland, - 


2 


1,425 


4,298,772 


623,332 


311,666.00 


Delaware, - 


I 


1,052 


1,841,9117 


187,923 




Virginia, 


1 


8,715 


28,178,654 


1,606,063 




South Carolina, 


1 


320 


1,099,040 


47,375 




Georgia, - 


1 


1,592 


5,675,426 


562,607 




Alabama, 


1 


790 


1,808,500 


331,235 




Louisiana, 


1 


408 


2,070,5(X> 


264,242 




Tennessee, - 


1 


8,467 


3;3,361.709 


2,045,169 


1,022,580,00 


Kentucky, 


2 


2.530 


9,548,243 


1.059,142 


529.561 00 


Missouri, 


8 


a3.256 


131,;388,883 


10,071,534 


1,333,94175 


Ohio, 


4 


11,807 


22,135.199 


1,375,952 


313,988(10 


Illinois, 


6 


9,545 


13,9:J8,708 


2,364,404 


390,734.00 


Indiana, - 


1 


1,011 


2,4.33314 


177,311 




Michigan, - 


I 


1,074 


3,021,065 


219842 




Iowa, 


1 


4.52 


796,622 


166,687 




Minnesota, - 


1 


3i6 


703,700 


137,460 




California, 


2 


2,5C8 


8,357,745 


1,361,683 








3"l = = lo-"l§-|| 

-■ = 3- s?" C 2 - o = .?■ 3 



l5Ss£.|„-.3. 



i.a2 3-3 3-3.-> 



a 3.0-5 S'i 

sSaf 3 = 




~3 "?S'^ s-^-o J 



" S » " £_ o . 



. 9'< =.5 =■» • 3 ' -. 



i-i^l?io2. "^ I 




52 3 ^ 5 2 og 2."="^ 3^ <:?3 ^'^ S "^oS'^ 

■ 7~ 22^.32— ~2..„.''o32o'^->"5 3" ^S.-d 

_-~~:tq— ^<^» 3" — ^ ,«■ 3 S < .-> — r? 5 r^^ a- 



J _* » »< J^ 3'». 



3"., "< J 3 ? 3'^|-|:a=."o 



- = " 3 re 3 5a 3 " 

"3n=.3 """"3 =.5 3"2 B 3 " -•'' o ' :r. 



■>- 5 o ■" ='3 1 2 » ^^s- 



3*— . 



3 '* 5? ^ 9*5 ** *^ 3*3 :j53oj^3- „^ 3" 

2"3''32'' = -??, — -"^-aSS.o^oS.p 
5-0 ~ » ■* ■" o -3 i.— =-2.3,J?='i'"^?'' =•" 3 
o^'-iH. ],;5ocj^o:;_^:3 =*■< a-S'^'^"* 3-^ X a. 
1 1?'5 =:2,|3 < is if! jS.» ^^ o 3 £_o I 

||;=|?2;? |i p;,^5 3 1 g-i Jf |o S'l 



■< 3 5 r = s 

3= M'<3 C 



3" — 3 r*^ o 









['','%'< o ~n B_3 







LIFE INSURANCE. 



227 



The foIlo\viii<r table shows the comparative 
inaguitiule of the business of Life Insurance 
in the United Siatt^s as compared vviih Great 
Britain, the Eiiglisli Colonies, and Germany : 



United StoU-s, 
Cln-at Britain, 
Knglish Colonies, 

Germany, 



w • 




° -fi 


o 


S^a 


U m 




■o 'Z 


st^ 


S ^3 


11 


^- 


113 


834,498 


Ho 


l,22r),308 


4 


12,741 


36 


424,922 



a 
■< 

$2,2(^3,4^.8,213 

1,437,969 ,SS)5 

26,050,270 

Tlialers. 

401,032,407 



$300,616,056 

459,330 ,a"i0 

6,079,815 

Thalcrs. 

61,446,040 



The largest foreign company is the 
Gotha of Germany, which had in force 
January 1st, IH71, S6,:il.)2 policies, with 
assets amounting to 19,430,728 tlialers. 
riie Mutual Life of New Xoxk, the Con- 
necticut Mutual, and the vEtiia of Hartford, 
the Mutual Benefit of New Jersey, and the 
New York Life, each had a larger number 
of policies in i'orce at that time, and pos- 
sessed a larger amount of assets, some of 
them several fold. 



IMMIGRATIOIf. 



CHAPTER L 

GENEKAL MIGRATION— COLONIES AND 
UNITED STATES. 

At the date of the recent national census, 
(1870) nearly one-seventh of the inhabitants 
of the United States, (5,566,546 out of 38,- 
555,983) were of foreign birth, and since 
that time (to Jan. 1,1872) about 500,000 
more aliens have arrived in this country. Of 
those classed as " natives " in the census, 
quite as many more are children, one or both 
of whose parents were foreigners. It may, 
then, be salely computed that two-sevenths 
of our population are either of foreign birth 
or parentage. This is irrespective of the 
large negro element, most of which has been 
in this country for more than one genera- 
tion. 

The term " native " has been used to dis- 
tinguish the born citizen from the newly ar- 
rived foreigner, as well as the former from the 
" red man," who was also an emigrant in the 
view of the lost races that preceded him, and 
of which monumental traces alone remain in 
evidence that they ever existed. The history 
of the human race is a history of migration. 
Twice Jias the race comprised only a sin- 
gle family, occupying a single point on the 
earth's suifice, and twice has it spread in all 
directions, forming nations and founding em- 
pires. The antediluvian world was swept 
away by the deluge, and all traces of the 
race of Adam had been washed away by the 
obliterating waters from the earth's surface 
when the ark gave up its freight. From its 
door migration was resumed, and three con- 
tinents owe their populations to the several 
sons of the patriarch. Asia, Africa, and 
Europe were settled by Shem, Ham, and 
Japhet and their descendants, who have 
stamped their characteristics upon each. 
From that day to the present, the same re- 
curring circumstances have from time to 
time produced the same results. As each 
locality became overcrowded by increase, the 
most adventurous sallied forth in quest of 
new homes, which, iu their turn, tilled, awd 



overflowed into some more distant region. 
These successive waters rolling on until the 
remotest shores of each continent were occu- 
pied, were succeeded by more formidable 
hosts of armed invaders, who came, sword in 
hand, to dispossess occuj^iers and seize accu- 
mulated wealth. With the growth of mod- 
ern civilization migration has no longer a 
destructive character. It seeks to build up 
by bringing industry and aid of natural re- 
sources, rather than to destroy by seizing 
what others have produced. It is more steady 
and effective in its commercial character — 
having industry for a means and prosperity 
for an object — than in its old form of inva- 
sion, plundering by force and leaving deso- 
lation in its train. 

The British Islands were the last subjects 
of European incursions. The Britons, of 
mythic origin, were plundered by Norse en- 
terprise, and the Saxons alternated with the 
Danes in dominating the nation on the with- 
drawal of the Romans, to l)e in their turn 
subjected to the Normans. S'm e then 800 
years have been spent in amalgamating the 
races and in peopling the islands. Even at 
that date the adventurous Norseman, in 
search of the whale, had discovered the new 
continent and formed a colony on what is 
now known as Newfoundland. It required 
long centuries, however, in that barbarous 
age, for the people to struggle successfully 
against the etfects of feudal oppression, civil 
wars, and their consequences, famine and 
plague. Neverthehss, progress was made and 
commerce a good deal developed, when, at 
the close of the fifteenth century, the dis- 
covery of the West Indies by Columbus was 
followed by an influx of the precious metals 
into Europe, giving a renewed impetus to 
industry and enterprise. The Spanish were 
attracted by gold, and the commercial Dutch 
by the desire to found colonies, and their 
example was followed by the English and 
French. In both these cases, however, the 
desire of civil and religious freedom was a 
powerful incentive to the emigrants. These 
motives were more strongly developed when 



GENERAL MIGRATION — COLONIES AND UNITED STATES. 



229 



the English revolution began to operate in 
the fir!;t half of the 17th century. The new 
world was then looked upon as the place of 
refuse, and Cromwell himself, with his com- 
])anions, were only prevented from migra- 
ting by the interposition of the government 
which they afterward overthrew. Of the four 
leading nations that planted colonies on this 
continent, the English alone became perma- 
nently successful. The Spaniards sought gold 
only. The French settlement of the Missis- 
sippi was more a financial bubble of Law than 
a movement ot settlers. The Dutch had not 
sufficient breadth at home to sustain the un- 
dertaking ; and the English necessarily ab- 
sorbed the whole, with their steady hidustry 
and abidin<j relierious faith. 

The disposition to emigrate to America 
gradually gained ground as the eiiihteenth 
century advanced, more particularly in the 
north of Ireland and Scotland, which already 
enjoyed the advantage of some intercourse 
with friends in America. Just before the 
Revolutionary war, this disposition to emi- 
grate showed itself strongly. The linen 
weavers in the northern part of Ireland were, 
by the decline in that trade, induced to mi- 
grate. For two years, 1771 and 1772, sixty- 
two vessels left with eighteen thousand pas- 
sengers for America, paying passages seven- 
teen dollars each. Most of these were linen 
•weavers and farmers, possessed of property, 
aad they carried with them so much money 
as to attract the notice of the gov^ernment. 
The movement, however, continued in 1773 
and extended itself to the north of Scotland, 
whence the highlanders migrated in great 
numbers. Knox, in his view of the British 
empire at that time, asserts that in the twelve 
years ending in 1775, about thirty thousand 
highlanders emigrated, exclusive of the low- 
landers ; and it was computeil that there 
were sixty thousand highlanders citizens of 
the United States in 1799. In the report 
of the committee on the linen manufactures 
in the Irish Parliament in 1774, it is stated 
that the whole emigration from the province 
of Ulster was estimated at thirty thousand 
people, of whom ten thousand were weavers, 
who, with their tools and money, departed 
for America ; thus adding to the numbers 
and wealth in the new world, in the propor- 
tion that the British Islands lost from the 
same cause. 

The breaking out of the War of Inde- 
pendence, naturally interrupted the commu- 



nication between America and the old world ; 
but with the return of peace, in 1783, the 
migration revived, notwithstanding the in- 
credible hardships which at that time at- 
tended the transit. The shipping was little 
adapted to the trade, and no special laws 
protected the rights of the poor emigrant. 
As an instance of this, it is related that in 
September, 1 784, a ship left Greenock with 
a large number of passengers, who had paid 
twenty-five dollars each for their passage. 
They were robbed of their chests and pro- 
visions by the master, and one hundred of 
them turned ashore on the Island of Rathlin, 
coast of Ireland. Another vessel rescued 
seventy-six emigrants from a desert island, 
where they had been turned adrift by the 
master of a brig, who had engaged to carry 
them from Dunleary, in Iceland, to Charles- 
town. In the same year there were great 
numbers landed at Baltimore, Philadelphia, 
and elsewhere. Blodgett's Statistical Man- 
ual, published in 1806, states that from 1784 
to 1794, the arrivals were four thousand per 
annum. In the year 1794, ten thousand 
persons were estimated to have arrived in 
the United States. Adam Seybert, a mem- 
ber of the House of Representatives, in his 
" Statistical Annals," admitting the number 
for that year, states that so large a move- 
ment did not again occur until 1817. 

When the colonies separated from the 
mother country, the population of the latter 
was, for England and Wales, 7,225,000, and 
about 2,000,000 for Ireland, making to- 
gether 9,225,000 souls, or about one-fourth 
the present inhabitants of the United States. 
The population of the newly formed United 
States in the year 1790 was 3,174,167 
whites, or about one-third the numbers in 
England and Wales. The founders of the 
nation were then not unmindful of the 
fact that these three millions of people, 
occupying 163,746,686 acres of land al- 
though possessed of a vast territory, had 
little else to depend upon. Capital was 
scarce, and manufactures had rot been per- 
mitted under imperial rule, hence skilled 
artisans were not to be found. While all 
these things were indispensable to the new 
country, crowds of poorly paid and oppres- 
sed operatives on the other side of tlie At- 
lantic were impatient to enjoy the privileges 
that our new form of government held out 
to them. The French, German, and Eng- 
lish troops, that returned home after the 



230 



IMMIGRATION. 



war, had not only left a portion of their 
numbers here a^ settlers, but hud carried 
home favorable reports of the advantages to 
be here ei joyed. It was manifestly to the 
interest of the new government here to in- 
vite and encourage these settlers, at the 
same time to guard against possible political 
abuse of the privilege. The new Constitu- 
tion therefore required Congress to pass 
nniforni laws for nituralization. This was 
not done until A])ril 14th, 1802, when the 
regulations that have since mainly continued 
were enacted. By that law, those aliens 
who were in the country prior to 1795 
might be admitted to citizenship on proof 
of two years' continuous residence in the 
United States, sustaining a good moral char- 
actcM-, and abjuring allejiiance to foreign 
nations. Any alien arriving in the United 
States after the passage of the act was to 
comply with th(! following conditions : 

1. lie shall, before some compent court, 
swear, at least three years before his admis- 
sion, that it is his bona fide intention to re- 
nounce forever all allegiance to any sove- 
reign state to which he was a subject. 

2. lie shall swear to support the Consti- 
tution of the United States. 

3. Before he can be admitted he must 
show that he has resided within the United 
States live years, and within the jurisdiction 
of the court one year. He must also show 
th:it he has been of good moral character, 
and well disposed to the happiness of the 
United States. 

4. He must renounce all titles of nobility. 
The law of March 3, 1813, required that the 
residence of five years should have been con- 
tinuous in the United States. This restric- 
tion was repealed Jan. 26, 1848. The law 
of May 26, 1824, reduced the term of notice 
of intentions from three to two years. 
These were the chief regulations of the fed- 
eral government in relation to naturalization. 
Many of the states have, however, from time 
to time,^ passed laws relative to immigrants, 
importation of paupers, convicts, lunatics, 
etc. New York and many other states have 
laws recpiiring of the owner, or master, or 
consignee of the passenger ship, a well se- 
cured bond to the people of the state against 
loss for the relief or support of such pas- 
sengers. In lieu of this bond, commutation 
money may be paid. 

The federal government having smoothed 
the way, the migration proceeded until 



unfriendly relations between the United 
States and Great Britain, growing out of the 
wars of Europe, checked intercourse. The 
claim enforced by Great Britain to the prin- 
ciple, " Once a subject always a subject," 
served to take from emigrants the security 
they sought under the American fl;ig ; and 
in 1806 Great Britain declared France in a 
state of blockade, and France retorted upon 
the British Isles. These proceedings being 
succeeded by others, compelled the United 
States, in ' 809, to prohibit intercourse with 
France and Great Britain. In 1810 Kn o- 
leon annulled his decree, but Great Britam 
continued her vexations, seizing American 
seamen, and riding rough-shod over their 
rights. The embargo was then succeeded 
by the war of 1812, during which migration 
was very limited. In February, 1815, peace 
was concluded, and the stream of migration, 
long pent up, resumed its flow with greater 
force The accommodation was, of course, 
limited, and the more restrained that a law 
of Parliament restricted the number that 
might be carried to the United States to one 
for every five tons, although one for every 
two tons might be carried to any other coun- 
try. In the year 1817, 22,240 persons ar- 
rived in the United States, including Ameri- 
cans who returned home. This large mi- 
gration was attended with immense suffering. 
The attention of Congress was called to it, 
and a law was passed, March 2, 1819, to 
regulate the transportation of passengers. 
This act limited the number to two for eveiy 
five tons of measurement, and provided for 
an ample allowance of food and fuel. When 
the famine of 1846-7 gave a new Jmpulse 
to the movement, more complete laws were 
found requisite, and a number were 2>assed. 
March 3, 1857, the present passenger act 
was enacted, repealing all former laws upon 
the subject, which with some slight moditica- 
tions since made, establishes the regulations 
now in force. It regulates the space for 
each passenger, the number of berths, ven- 
tilation and warming, and the kind and 
quantity of food to be furnished by ihe ship 
and how it is to be dealt out, and if any pas- 
senger is put on short allowance, the mas- 
ter or owner sliall pay him three dollars each 
day of short allowance. 

The first accounts of the nundiers of im- 
migrants commenced in 1820. under the law 
of 1819. The following table shows the num- 
ber of emigrants for fifty years. 



GENERAL MIGRATION— COLONIES AND UNITED STATES. 



231 



" "^ ^„ »„,„ p.,spvnfl,<. ARRIVED IN THE UNITED STATES FROM FOREIGN COUNTRIES, FROM THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE 

THE NUMBER OF ALIEN P^'^^^^^^^^V^THE 31«r OF DKCBMBER, 1850. TUE DATES ARE INCLDSIVE. 



■ COUNTIES. Prior to 1820. [ 1820 to 1830. 1831 to 1840. 1 1841 to 1850. 1851 to 1860. 


1861 to 1869.' 


Agprepite. 


; 




15,037 

27,106 

3,180 

170 

35,534 


7,611 
29,188 

2,667 

185 

243,540 


32,092 

162,332 

3,712 

1,261 

848,366 


247,125 

748,74(» 

38,a31 

6,319 

297,578 


154,039 

392,685 

24,913 

3.828 

889,422 


456,704 






72,803 

11,763 

1,805,440 










Great Britain, not specified. . . 




Total from British Isles . 




81,827 

7,583 
146 


283,191 

148,204 
4,250 


1,067,763 

422.477 
12,149 


1,338,093 

907,780 
43,887 


955,887 

690 288 

39,949 

4,114 

93,434 

14,844 

8,5i;9 

34,162 

21,365 

6,377 

6,455 

1,790 

9,856 

73 

115 

8 

67 

1,905 

1,955 

487 

124 


8,706,761 




2,176.332 






100, .372 






4,115 






94 

189 
1,127 

8,868 

8,257 

28 

2,616 

180 

389 

22 

17 

1 

20 

89 

21 


1,201 

1,063 

1,112 

45,575 

4,821 

22 

2,125 

829 

2,211 

7 

35 

35 

49 

277 

369 


13,903 

639 

8,251 

77,262 

4,644 

5,074 

2,209 

650 

1,590 

221 

79 

78 

16 

651 

105 


20 931 

3.749 

10,789 

79,358 

25,011 

4,738 

9,298 

1,0,55 

7,012 

1,790 

426 

5 

31 

457 

1,164 


129,563 






20,384 






39,148 






242,226 






59,098 






16,239 






22,703 






4,404 






21,058 






2,103 






675 






127 






183 






3,279 






3,614 






487 






21 
2 
3 


7 


59 
51 
35 


83 

427 

41,397 


294 






626 






8 


66,116 

186 

49 

83 

4 

3 


97.559 






185 






9 


39 


36 


43 


176 






33 














4 


w"^„ 








7 
4 


15 
19 


25 


A ■ V snprified 




3 
2 

1 


1 


27 






77 

81 

8 

5 


79 






8 
4 


6 


6 


60 






12 












6 








4 

36 


1 

47 

2 

41,723 

3,271 

368 




6 






10 


186 


179 


458 






2 


British America 




2,486 

4,818 

107 


13,624 

6,-W9 

44 


59,309 

3,078 

449 


114,009 

1,923 

71 

43 

88 

86 

26 

40 

7 

8 

2 

1 

1,163 

3,598 

84 

80 

42 

4,787 

129 

75 

20 


231,151 
19,691 






1,039 






43 














38 














36 














26 














40 














7 














3 














2 














1 






543 


856 


3,579 


1,224 


7,364 






3,598 














84 


I{;iyti 












80 














42 


West Inilies, not specified. . . 




3,998 
2 

1 
79 


12,301 
3 
6 


13,528 


10,660 

104 
44 


45,274 






238 


Sandwich Islands 




28 


154 






99 






2 


1 




3 








4 
6 


4 


8 


Society Islands 








1 


7 











2 

8,083 

58 

42 

9 

9 

4 

8 

1 

84,754 


2 






13 


29 


327 


2,873 


6,325 






58 


Cape de Verdes 




4 

70 


15 

52 

1 

6 


3 
3 
3 

1 


7 

189 

13 

8 


71 






323 


St. Helena 




26 






271 


290 


Miquelon 




3 












10 
25,438 


11 


Countries not .upecified 


250,000 


32,892 
2 
4 


69,799 
6 


52,725 
2 


462,608 
9 










4 
















1 250,000 
y 


151,824 


599,126 


1,713,225 


2,598,214 


2,112,655 
339,046 


7,425,069 
339,046 














the goveruuieut to Dec. 31 
1870 


. 2,461,701 


7,756,511 



232 



IMMIGRATION. 



The returns gave the number from Great 
Britahi in many cases without distinguishing 
the [lardcular oivisions where all the passen- 
gers were born. A very large portion of the 
whole, however, came from Ireland, The 
return shows, then, that Ireland and Germany 
furnish the largest |)roportion of tiie emi- 
grants. Other nations have supplied a 
greater or less number, but in-egularly. 
Since 1850, or the era of gold discovery, 
Asia — mainly China and Japan — have sent 
about 80 OOi* emigranis to California. Those 
do not. however, as a general thing, intend 
remaining. They are for the most part fitted 
out with small sums borrowed of friends and 
neighbors, who share in the profits of the 
adventurer on his return. Numbers of those 
who come from olher countries, as France, 
West Indies, and Soutliern P^urope, as well 
as to some extent from England, are mer- 
chants and travelers, who are not to he em- 
braced in the aggregate of settlers in new 
homes. The great sources of migration are, 
then British and German, and the latt/^r are 
confined mostly to the valley of the Rhine. 
The pi^ople of the north of Europe except 
the Norse folk seem to have lost the noma 
die character of their ancestors. It is true 
that then they were led by chiefs and tempt- 
ed by plunder to overrun the richer countries 
of the west, while at the j)resent day migra- 
tion has no object but to seek an honest liv- 
ing in countries where labor is in demand, 
and whe -e hospitality and protection await 
the worker. 'Jhe Russian peasants while 
surfs were not aLowed to leave their country, 
and the Russians in the table are mostly 
merchants and travelers. The Swede and 
the Norwegian are more free in their choice, 
and sin "e IHfiO, have emigrated to this coun- 
try in largi; numbers, settling mainly in Inwa, 
Wiscon-iin, Mmnesota, Kansas, and Nebras- 
ka. Many of them also enter into domesiic 
service in our large cities. The Swiss are to 
a consiilerable extent free and thrifty in their 
mountain homes, but great divisi(jn< exist in 
respect of r. ligion as well as politics, and 
there is amo 'g them a want of nationality. 
The cantons of Vaud and Geneva are mostly 
French, and threaten to become quite so. On 
the side of the Tyrol the Swiss become Ital- 
ians. The German Swiss are mostly con- 
nected with Baden, and are embraced in the 
German movement. The Hollanders mi- 
grate to some extent, and often from motives 
of religiou. The JMoravian Brethren thus 



founded colonies in Pennsylvania. Gold 
seems, since its discovery iu California, to 
have stimulated Dutch enterprise. The Ital- 
ians and Spanish do not migrate in the true 
sense of the word ; they leave their homes 
to some extent for the countries that border 
the Mediterranean, but they do not, uidess 
under the ban of exile, cro-s the Atlantic. 
The Sardinians and Basque Spaniards go to 
some extent to the La Plata in South Amer- 
ica ; they do not frankly abandon their coun- 
try to adopt a new one. Tie French are 
more markedly attached to their native soil 
and national character, and colonize little ; 
they migrate but moderately. Even Algiers 
has grown but very slowly under thirty years 
of governmental fostering care, and there are 
now but G0,000 French in the colony. Of 
those French who arrived in the United 
States up to 1870, about 40 per cent re- 
mained in the country according to the cen- 
sus. 



CHAPTER II. 

EUROPEAN MIGRATION— FRENCH AND 
GERMAN— NEW TRADE. 

The peace of 1815, in re-establishing the 
liberty of the seas, so long suppressed, 
opened new countries to European com- 
merce. On the other hand, many interests 
underwent adverse changes; numerous ar- 
mies were newly disbanded, and great num- 
bers of men were forced to leave home in 
search of a useful application of their talents 
and energies. America was to them the chief 
point of attraction ; those who knew only the 
trade of arms, offered their swords to the 
Spanish colonies then fighting for emancipa- 
tion. Of these a majority found early graves 
from excess, fatigue, and misery ; many turn- 
ed their attention to agriculture, and the 
wi-est sought refuge in the United States, 
where services were well requited, and the 
broad territories offered a limitless field for 
activity. At first the emigrants were iso- 
lated individuals ; soon entire families went 
in quest of new homes, and their success was 
a tempting example to other families, each 
of whom drew others in their train, until a 
continuous movement was established from 
the valley of the Rhine to America. 

This developed a new era in the inter- 
national conmierce. The cotton of the south- 
ern states had up to that time found a limited 



EUROPEAN MIGRATION. 



233 



market in Havre, but being carried thitber 
in American sbips, there being little return 
freight for those vessels, the cotton was 
charged with freight both ways, out and 
home. The moment that considerable nimi- 
bers of passengers offered themselves for the 
return, that trade of itself became an object, 
aftbrding a profitable home freight. It was 
then apparent that the light and elegant 
models of the American ships, which had so 
well answered the purpose of speed and 
efficiency during the war, were not adapted 
to the transportation of passengers. A differ- 
ent style of construction was needed,allowing 
of greater stowage of cotton out, and better 
accommodation to passengers, in accordance 
with the provisions of the law prescribing the 
room to be allowed to each passenger. This 
change causing greater attractions to the 
American ships, drew increasing crowds from 
the valley of the Rhine across France to 
Havre. Many of these poor people could 
raise only the sum needful for the passage, 
and depended upon begging their way 
across France to the port. These crowds 
of beggars alarmed the government, and it 
took measures to stop them. It was ordered 
that no one should be admitted to cross 
France unless he had previously paid his 
passage in the ship, was possessed of $150 
for every member of the fiimily over eigh- 
teen years of age, and had his passport 
signed by the French embassador at Frank- 
fort. The eft'ect of these absurd regulations 
was to destroy the trade of Havre, and turn 
the migration down the Rhine to Antwerp, 
Bremen, and Hamburg. The Havre mer- 
chants made great efforts to remedy the evil 
by sending agents to aid the emigrants, 
lending them the money to pass the frontier, 
and to be returned immediately after. A 
great rivalry was thus engendered between 
the northern ports and Havre, which still 
liad great advantages in respect of the num- 
ber of American vessels that arrived with 
cotton, and finally the obstacles interposed 
by the government were removed. The 
city of Bremen was prompt to take advan- 
vantage of the error of the French govern- 
ment, and used every effort to attract the 
emigrants to tliat port, by granting facilities 
and protecting them from imposition. A 
law was passed regulating in the most min- 
ute particular the accommodations to be 
given to emigrants on shipboard. They are 
not to be taken on board until the moment 
of departure. To accommodate them prior 



to shipment, an immense building was con- 
structed to hold 2,000 people ; it has a front 
of 200 feet, and is 100 in deptii. It has 
public rooms, sleeping apartments, kitchens, 
baggage-rooms, etc., and is warmed by steam 
throughout. There are also chapels for cath- 
olic and protestant worship, and a hospital, 
with thirty-three beds. The price charged 
with board is fourteen cents per day. By 
these and other means Bremen has acquired 
a large share of the emigrant business. 
Hamburg did not make the same cfibi-ts ; and 
it is only recently that societies for the pro- 
tection of emigrants have been there formed. 
The Germans formerly preferred to em- 
bark at Havre, Southampton, or Liverpool, 
and on American t«hips, to sailing from Ger- 
man German ports and on German ships ; 
but a change has taken place in this respect 
of late years. The German steamers, of 
which there are now three or four lines, are 
much better than formerly, and having good 
steerage accommodations, make the passage 
in 13 or 14 days. The French steamships 
do not carry emigrants, and as a result of the 
late war, there are few American steamers 
ruiming regularly to Europe. Emigration 
by sailing vessels is seldom attempted now, 
and only by the lowest class of emigrants. 
riiere are numbers who go from Rotterdam, 
Ostend, or Hamburg, to England, and depart 
thence to their final destination. From Bre- 
men the emigrant ships go to a greater va- 
riety of pons than from Havre. The United 
States is, however, the ultimate destination 
of nearly all. 

The motives that impel German migration 
are variously understood. The reports of the 
numerous emigration societies give evidence 
of the highest traits of character. The Ger- 
man is described as a persevering worker, 
seeking to ameliorate his condition. He is 
always ready to go where his services will be 
the best paid, and certain professions have 
long been pursued by him in all countries. 
If his feeling of nativity is strong, his love 
of family is still stronger. And, moreover, the 
Teutonic race may now be said to be at 
home on half the entire globe. There are, 
however, other motives, and these are evi- 
dently the desire to find civil, political, and 
religious liberty, of which they have not the 
perfect enjoyment at home. The Germans 
have never succeeded in founding colonies 
of their own under good government, but 
they are a valuable acquisition where others 
have established liberty and order. They 



234 



IMMIGRATION. 



seek exemption from military service. They 
wish to contribute in just proportion to the 
public expenses, of which they enjoy the 
benefits, as equal citizens. They seek to 
escape the trammels of corporations. They 
wish also freely to dispose of the fruits of 
their own industry, and by so doing to avoid 
the misery of destitution. All this that they 
seek is evidently that which they have not 
got, or at least very imperfectly, at home. 

While Germany was divided into many 
petty states, their division, which materially 
checked industry and increased the taxa 
tion, was itself an exceedingly strong incen- 
tive to emigration ; and before their confed- 
eration into one government was fully accom- 
plished, almost every family had its repre- 
sentatives here, and the tendency had become 
so strong for a home in the '• land of prom- 
ise," that no political changes coidd greatly 
aifect it. 

The German governments have all, more 
or less, occupied themselves with the ques- 
tion of migration, and in some cases have 
sought to check it. Among these attempts 
was that by Prussia to found agricultural 
colonies. The king offered lands in the 
duchy of Posen, and agents were sent among 
the emigrants from the valley of the Rhine. 
The conditions were, that the settlers should 
not leave the country without permission, 
and never without having performed military 
service. 

These, it may be supposed, were without 
success. Emigrant agents are, by some 
governments, required to submit to regula- 
tions ; sometimes the number is limited, and 
sometimes they must give security. In Ba- 
varia onlv two houses are authorized to treat 
with emigrants for their passages across 
France, and the contracts must be inspected 
by the consul at Havre. There results a 
large clandestine emigration to avoid these 
restrictions, and at the frontiers numerous 
agents are ready to assist — a sort of under- 
ground railroad. The governments of Wur- 
temberg, Baden, and the two Hesses, are less 
rigorous, but nowhere can passports be ob- 
tained until every effort has been made to 
dissuade the emigrant. In case he persists, 
he must renounce all rights of citizenship 
and nationality. On the other hand, meas- 
ures are taken to aid the emigrant. When 
the cause of departure is destitution, the 
communes and the government subscribe, 
while stipulating that the emigrant shall 
renounce all right to ulterior aid. All the 



persons so aided go from one canton together. 
When the emigrants pay their own expenses 
and have a small capital, bands of numerous 
families from divers points assemble and de- 
part together. Political exiles are very few, 
but these have generally considerable means. 
It is melancholy, however, to reflect in 
how great a degree destitution becomes the 
cause of migration. Singularly enough, the 
valley of the Rhine, of which the German 
poets sing the beauty and the fertility, is 
precisely the spot, of all Europe, where the 
misery of Ireland is most neai'ly reproduced. 
From the Lake of Constance to the frontiers 
of Holland, that famous valley has so long 
felt the oppression of feudalism and been 
the battle-field of contending powers, as to 
have become completely impoverished. In 
the duchy of Baden the day's wages of a 
3killed workman is twenty-eight cents — a sum 
which may sustain life in a year of good har- 
vest, but which is utterly insufficient in time 
of dearth, as in 1846, when potatoes became 
diseased. The insurrection of 1849 added 
to the calamities, and in 1852, of a popula- 
tion of 1,356,943 souls, 14,400 emigrated, 
or one per cent in one year. The thrift and 
endurance of the Germans are well devel- 
oped in a land of such hardships, and on 
their arrival in the United States they are 
not slow in turning their persevering indus- 
try to account. It is singular that the dis- 
tress and destitution which centuries of 
misrule have produced in Ireland, so famed 
for its natural advantages, should be repro- 
duced in Europe only in the Rhine valley, 
the garden of Europe. The two localities 
best endowed by nature are precisely those 
where man is most anxious to escape by mi- 
gration from an accumulation of miseries. 
The highest migration from Germany, by 
the four ports of Hamburg, Havre, Antwerp, 
and Bremen, rose to 203,537 in 1854. The 
movement has since declined, fluctuating 
with the harvests. There are, however, con- 
siderable numbers who go, by other convey- 
ance from those ports than the emigrant 
ships, to Liverpool, and embark thence for 
America. This aggregate German move- 
ment has come of late years to rival, and in 
some cases to exceed the broad stream of 
British migration. The migration from 
Great Britain has always been largest in the 
years of dear food, and it has again subsided 
when good harvests have diminished the 
prices of bread. The number that went 
abroad in 1843 was 57,212, and it continued 



EUROPEAN MIGRATION. 



235 



to augment year by year until it reached 
368,764 in the year 1852. Several causes 
concurred to produce this increase. The 
first was the famine of 1845-46-47, and the 
conse(|uc'iit means adopted by the British 
government for the relief of Ireland ; the 
second was the gold fever, which carried oft" 
thousands; and the third was the prosperity 
of the emigrants in the United States, where 
railroad building and other employments 
gave the means to send for friends in unu- 
sual numbers. The most important cause 
was, probably, the condition 9f Ireland. 
The conquest of that country, which was 
commenced seven centuries since, is but now 
being completed. We now see the insub- 
missive Celts quitting, with the aid of their 
conquerors, the disputed country, to seek 
new homes beyond the seas. They cannot 
assimilate to the conquering race, and not 
being able to defend themselves, they aban- 
don the country rather than submit. Du- 
ring all the time of religious persecution, 
from the reign of Henry VIII. to George III., 
the economical condition of Ireland was de- 
plorable, and misery made incessant prog- 
ress. The landed population became in- 
volved in debt, and a fatal subdivision of 
the land was introduced in the mode of cul- 
ture. Farms were subdivided as fast as the 
people multiplied, which was fully equal to 
the proverbial fecundity of a state of ex- 
treme poverty, and the potato came to be the 
sole dependence of all for food. The sud- 
den destruction of that dependence by rot 
was an overwhelming calamity, that brought 
matters to a crisis. It was felt that migra- 
tion could not remedy the evil, but that a 
radical change in a wrong system was be- 
come indispensable. The system pursued 
had been for the landlords, mostly in debt, 
to absent themselves altogether. The land 
was then taken by " middle men," at a rate 
which hardly met the interest on incum- 
brances. This land was then parcelled out to 
the poor cotters in lots down to one-fourth acre 
or less, mere patches, at rates which gave a 
large aggregate rent to the " middle man." 
Those patches were planted with potatoes, 
which were the sole dependence of the 
family for food in the year. They were 
gathered, when ripe, into a pile, and that 
pile diminished by daily consumption until 
an approaching new crop found it exhausted. 
The supply of food for the year depended 
entirely upon the amount of the crop. Its 
yield was the sole dependence of the family 



to sustain life. The cotter had no property 
or capital of any kind to be made available 
in case of emergency. His only means of 
paying rent was an annual migration to 
England in harvest time to earn tlu' necessa- 
ry sum. That done, the balance of the year 
was idly spent in watching the sinking pile 
of potatoes. It may well be imagined how 
great was the horror that seized such a peo- 
ple when the sole barrier between themselves 
and starvation was found rotten, suddenly 
perishing under their eyes. The scenes that 
followed were awful to contemplate. All 
that could, fled, and these were mostly the 
robust males, leaving the infirm, tlie old, and 
the young to encounter the slow death that 
was gradually approaching, and which over- 
took multitudes. The greatest cftbrts were 
made by the British government to purchase 
and distribute food, and to employ hands 
upon roads. At one time over 500,000 
were so employed. The introduction of the 
Indian corn was attempted as a substitute ; 
but it was nearly impossible amid a people 
entirely ignorant of its use. Hand-mills 
were furnished to grind it, and the priests 
and others used great exertions to teach 
them to cook it. It was frequently the case, 
however, that the grain did not agree with 
the people, but exhibited poisonous eff"ects 
on being eaten. The body swelled, and se- 
vere illness ensued. Migi'ation and famine 
did its work in spite of all efforts of human- 
ity, and the census of 1851 showed how 
awful had been the havoc. 

The population of Ireland has been as 
follows, per official reports : — 

1821, 6,801,827 1851, 6,623,984 

1831, 7,767,401 1861, 5,850,309 

1841, 8,222,664 1871, 5,402,759 

Decrease from 1841—30 years, "2^8197905 

In the ten years ending with 1831, the 
increase was one and a half per cent, per 
annum. From that date to 1841 it was 
nine-tenths of one per cent, and that was a 
period of much comparative prosperity. The 
crops were still good, and the failure of the 
English wheat crops in 1837 raised the prices 
of Irish grain, and gave much employment to 
its agriculturists. If it had continued the same 
rate up to 1847, the famine year, the popula- 
tion would then have been 8,616,680 souls, 
when the migration took place in large num- 
bers, and continued the succeeding thirteen 
years down to 1859. The same increase in 
that thirteen years would have made the 



236 



IMMIGRATION. 



population 9,651,678 persons, or as fol- 
lows : — 

Population in 1841 8,1 75,1 24 

Ten years' increase at 9 per cent 735,7G1 

The population should have been in 1851 8,910,885 
Actual population 6,553,291 

Loss bv famine and migration 2,357,594 

Number cniigrated. ". 1,422,000 

Population in 1851 6,62.{,982 

Ten years' increase at 9 per cent 595,500 

The population should have been in 1861 7,148,791 
Actual p.)i)uhition 5,850,309 

Loss by niiirration, etc 1 ,298 482 

Number en'iinrated 1 ,972,499 

In the famine years, up to 1851, 935,594 
persons disappeared more than were account- 
ed for by migration. From 1851 to 1861, 
there migrated 674,017 more persons than 
should have been lost by the census. The 
numbers who have returned were for a time, 
it is known, upwards of twenty thousand 
per anniun, and these carried back much 
larger simis than tliey broiiglit with them. 

In tliis view the emigration reacted upon 
the northern states, the emigrants carrying 
otf all that they have created. The whole 
operation above was as follows for fifteen 
years : — 

Population in 1847 8,616,680 

1861 5,850,309 

Decreased . . , 2,766,37 1 

Emigrated 3,393,499 

Excess 372,872 

Carrying t'onvard the estimate, the 

population in 1861 was 5,850,309 

Ten years' iucrease at 9 per cent. . . 526,527 

The population should have been in 

1871 6,376,836 

Actual population 5,402,759 

A loss by migration, etc., of. 974,077 

The first reformatory efforts of the English 
goveriinicnt were to throw the support of the 
Irish poor upon tlie parishes, and as the tax 
became onerous the forced sale of the encum- 
bered estates was authorized. The two mea- 
sures have succeeded. The land has passed 
into thrifty hands ; the bankrupt landlord is 
dispossessed, and the extortionate " middle 
man" is abolished ; and the excessively poor 
population has been purged off by migra- 
tion. The " clearing of the lands" was in 
many cases conducted with much barb;iritv. 
The little huts of the peasants were pulled 



or burned down, and the hapless people 
driven forth to seek homes beyond the seas 
as they best could. In other cases the land- 
lords, the government, or societies furnished 
the means of shipments. The government 
soon found the necessity of interposing by 
law, as the United States had done, to pro- 
tect them from the rapacity of shippers and 
their agents. The law of 1849 was passed 
with that object. By its provisions no ship 
shall carry more than one person for every 
two registered tons ; nor shall there be more 
than one person for every twelve superficial 
feet on the main deck and below it. The 
size, number, and construction of the berths 
are regulated, and the captain is required to 
issue food as follows to each person twice a 
week : — 

Bread 2^ lbs. 

Wheat Flour 1 " 

Oatmeal 5 " 

Rice 2 " 

Tea 2 oz. 

Sugar i lb. 

Molasses i " 

A surgeon must be carried where there 
are one hundred or more passengers, and. 
many other regulations that experience has 
pointed out as necessary, are enforced upon 
the carriers. The food is to be furnished 
entirely irrespective of the price of the pas- 
sage, which fluctuates almost daily between 
$16 and $24 each adult, and half price for 
children. The starving and destitute race 
each year sends forth crowds from all parts 
of Ireland to embark at Liverpool. The 
means are mostly furnished by Irish in 
America, who consider it their duty to 
appropriate their first earnings in their new 
homes to the rescue of their relatives, and 
small remittances, aggregating millions in a 
year, find the way into every cabin and 
workhouse as messengers of life to the des- 
pairing. Those poor people, once started 
on their travels, encounter numerous perils 
before reaching their destination. As soon 
as a party of emigrants arrives in Liverpool, 
they are beset by a tribe of people, both 
male and female, who are known by the 
name of " man-catchers" and " runners." 
The business of these people is, in common 
parlance, to *' fleece" the emigrant, and to 
draw from his pocket, by fair means or by 
foul, as much of his cash as he can be per- 
suaded, inveigled, or bullied into parting 
with. The first division of the man-catching 
fraternity are those who trade in conmiissions 



EUROPEAN MIGRATION. 



237 



on the passage money, and call themselves 
the " runners" or agents of the passenger 
brokers. The business of the passenger 
broker is a legitimate and necessary one. 
Under the passenger act of the 12th and 
13th Victoria cap. 3, the licenses of all the 
passenger brokers expired on the 1st of 
February, 1850, subject to renewal after 
their being approved of by the government 
emigration agent, and to their entering into 
bonds, with two sureties, in the sum of 
$1,000, for the due fulfilment of all the re- 
quirements of the act of Parliament relating 
to tlie comfort and security of emigrants. 
The passenger brokers at Liverpool, in com- 
mon with the unwary and unsuspecting emi- 
grants, have sutl'ered greatly from the mal- 
practices of the " runners," who pretend to 
be their agents. These man-catchers pro- 
cure whatever sums they can from emigrants 
a.s passage money — perhaps $25 or $30, or 
even more — and pay as little as they can to 
the passenger broker, whose business they 
thus assume — often as little as £3, or £3 5s. 
In addition to these large and knavish prof- 
its, they demand a commission of seven and 
a half per cent, from the passenger broker, 
and they have been often known to obtain 
and enforce tliis commission, although their 
whole concern in the matter may have been 
to watch the number of emigrants going 
into or coming out of the brokery office, 
and to put in a claim for having brought or 
" caught" them. 

To form an idea of the sums paid in any 
one year as commission to the man-catchers, 
in the item of passage money, we have but 
to take the total steerage emigration of that 
year and multiply it by £3 10s., or seven- 
teen dollars — the average amount of passage 
money — and calculate what a per-centage of 
seven and a half per cent, would amount to. 
The total steerage emigration of 1859 was 
one hundred and forty-six thousand one 
hundred and sixty-two souls, which, at seven- 
teen dollars a head, would amount to no 
less than two million four hundred and eighty- 
four thousand seven hundred and fifty-four 
dollars, on which, taking the commission at 
the low rate of six per cent., they draw one 
hundred and forty-nine thousand and forty 
dollars, which is generally stated to be about 
the sum actually paid to this particular class 
of people, on the average of the last three 
years, bv the passengoa'-brokers of Liverpool. 
But these are not the only class of the man- 
catching fraternity, nor do they confine their 



operations to an exorbitant profit upon pas- 
sage money. The man-catchers keep lodging- 
houses for emigrants — wretched cellars and 
rooms, destitute of comfort and convenience, 
in which they cram them as thickly as the 
place can hold. The extra profits they draw 
from this source cannot be inferior in amount 
to their previously mentioned gains, and the 
cherished hoards of the poor pay a large per- 
centage to their unscrupulous rapacity. 

In addition to this trade, some of them 
deal in the various articles composing the 
outfit of emigrants, such as bedding, clothes, 
food, cooking utensils, and the nick-nacks 
of all kinds which they can persuade them 
to purchase. Some of the store-keepers in 
this line of business pay their "runners" or 
" man-catchers" as much as ten per cent, com- 
mission on the purchases efi'ected by the 
emigrants, from wdiich the reader may form 
some estimate of the enormous plunder that 
must be drained from the poor ignorant peo- 
ple. As every emigrant must provide his 
own bedding, the sale of mattresses, blankets, 
and counterpanes, enters largely into this 
trade. After the bedding is provided, the 
man-catchers, who are principally Irishmen 
themselves, and know both the sti'ength and 
weakness of the Irish character, fasten upon 
their countrymen — many of whom, poor and 
miserable as they look, have sovereigns se- 
curely stitched amid the patches of their 
tattered garments — and persuade them into 
the purchase of various articles, both useful 
and useless. Among these may be mentioned 
clothes of all kinds — shirts, ti'owsers, waist- 
coats, shawls, petticoats, south-westers, caps, 
boots and shoes, slippers, cooking utensils, 
cans for the daily allowance of water, and 
tins to hold their meal, rice, and sugar. Pro- 
visions, such as bacon, herrings, salt beef, and 
other articles not found them on board, and 
luxuries, in which whiskey and tobacco are 
generally included, come next on the list, 
after reiterated assurances from the man- 
catchers that no emigrant will be taken on 
board without them. These being provided, 
and an Irishman being easily scjueezeable 
when a friend and a countryman is the man- 
catcher who has him in hand, and when he 
fears that his passage-money will be lost for 
non-compliance with the regulations, his 
attention is next directed to such articles as 
pocket-mirrors, razors, bowie-knives, pistols, 
telescopes, etc. 

The sti'anger in Liverpool, who takes a 
walk in the iumiediate vicinity of the Water- 



238 



IMMIGRATION. 



loo Dock, whence the greater number of 
emigrant vessels take their departure, will 
see a profuse display of the various articles 
upon which the man-catcher makes his 
gains — articles generally of the most inferior 
quality, and sold at the most extravagant and 
ridiculous prices. The man-catching busi- 
ness, in all its various departments, has been 
reduced to a regular system, and no London 
sharper can be more sharp than the Liverpool 
runners. Perhaps the most complicated and 
ingenious trick is the following : When a 
steam-vessel laden with emigrants leaves an 
L-ish port for Liverpool, one of the Liverpool 
fraternity, dressed up as a raw Irishman, with 
the usual long-tailed, ragged, and patched 
gray frieze coat, the battered and napless hat, 
the dirty unbuttoned knee-breeches, the black 
stockings, the shillelah, and the short pipe, 
takes his place among them, and pretends to 
be an emigrant. Before the vessel arrives at 
Liverpool he manages to make acquaintance 
with the greater portion of them, learns the 
parish they came from and the names of the 
relatives whom they have left behind, not 
forgetting those of the parish priest and the 
principal people of the neighborhood. He 
also ascertains the names of the friends in 
America whom they are going to join. lie 
tells them of the roguery of Liverpool, and 
warns them against thieves and man-catchers, 
bidding them take especial care of their 
money. On arriving at the quay, in Liver- 
pool, he jumps ashore among the first, where 
a gang of his co-partners are waiting to re- 
ceive him. lie speedily communicates to 
them all the information lie has gained, and 
tlie poor people on stepping ashore are beset 
by attectionate inquiries about their friends 
in Ireland, and that good old man the parish 
priest. They imagine that they have fortu- 
nately dropj)ed among old acquaintances, 
and their friend of the steamboat takes care 
to inform them that he is not going to be 
" done " by the man-catchers, but will lodge 
while at Liverpool at such and such a place, 
which he recommends. They cannot imagine 
tlifit men who know all about the priest and 
their fril'uds and relatives can mean them 
any harm, and numbers of them are usually 
led off in triumph to the most wretched but 
most expensive lodging-houses. Once in the 
power of the man-catchers, a regular siege 
of their pockets is made, and the poor emi- 
grant is victimized in a thousand ways for 
his passage money, for his clothes and uten- 
sils, and for his food. Even after they have 



drained him as dry as they can, they are loth 
to part with him entirely, and they write out 
per next steamer a full, true, and particular 
account of him — his parish, his relations, his 
priest, and his estimated stock of money — to 
a similar gang in New York. Paddy — simple 
fellow — arrives in New York in due time, 
and is greeted on landing by the same affec- 
tionate inquiries. If his eyes have not been 
opened by woeful experience, he thinks once 
more that he has fallen among friends, and 
is led oft' by the " smart " man-catchers of the 
New Yoi-k gang, to be robbed of the last 
farthing that he can be persuaded to part 
with ; and he is possibly induced to spend 
the savings of years in the purchase of land, 
supposed to be in the far west, but having 
no other existence but such as paper and lies 
can give it. 

It must not be supposed, from the state- 
ments in reference to the rogueries practised 
by runners and man-catchers upon the 
simple, emigrants themselves do not occa- 
sionally endeavor to commit frauds, both 
upon each other and upon the owners and 
captains of ships. The Irish emigrant, with 
the passion for hoarding which is so conmion 
among his countrymen, often hides money 
in his rags, and tells a piteous tale of utter 
destitution, in order to get a passage at a 
cheaper rate. The shameless beggary, which 
is perhaps the greatest vice of the lower 
classes of Irish, does not always forsake them, 
even when they have determined to bid fare- 
well to the old country ; and I have several 
times been accosted by men and women, on 
board emigrant ships in dock, and asked for 
contributions to help them when they got tc^ 
New York. " Sure, yer honor, and may the 
Lord spare you to a long life ; I've paid my 
last fjirden for my passage," said a sturdy 
Irish woman, with a child in her arms, when 
accosted on the quarter-deck of a fine ship, 
in the Waterloo Dock, " and when I get to 
New York I shall liave to beg in the strates, 
unless yer honor will take pity on me." On 
being asked to show me her ticket, she said 
her husband had it; and her husband — a 
wretched-looking old man — making his ap- 
pearance and repeating the same story, was 
pressed to show the document. He did so 
at last, when it was apparent that he had 
paid upwards of seventeen pounds — eighty- 
two dollars and twenty-five cents — for the 
passage of himself and wife and his family of 
five children. "And do you mean to say 
that you have no money left ?" was inquired 



EUROPEAN MIGRATION. 



239 



of him. " Not one blessed penny," said the 
man. " No, nor a fardin," said tlie woman, 
"and God knows wliat'U become of us." 
*' Do you know nobody in New York ?" " Not 
a living sowle, yer honor." " Have you no 
luggage ?" •' Not a stick or a stitch, but the 
clothes we wear." As the good ship was 
detained two days beyond her advertised 
time of sailing, all the emigrants, as usual, 
had liberty to pass to and from the ship to 
the streets, as caprice or convenience dicta- 
ted. On the following day, this sturdy 
woman and her husband were seen entering 
the Waterloo Dock gates with a donkey-cart, 
tolerably well piled with boxes, bedding, and 
cooking utensils. When they were down in 
the steerage, and she was asked whether that 
was her luggage, she replied it was. " You said 
yesterday, however, when you were begging, 
that you had no luggage." " Sure, it's a hard 
world, yer honor, and we're poor people — 
God help us." 

An incident of a kind not very dissimilar 
occurred on board of another American liner. 
When the passenger roll was called over, 
it was found that one man, from the county 
of Tipperary, had only paid an instalment 
upon his passage money, and that the sum 
of $6 each for three persons, or $18, was 
still due from him. On being called upon 
to pay the ditlerence, he asserted vehemently 
that he had been told in the broker's office 
that there was no more to pay, and that to 
ask him for more was to attempt a robbery. 
The clerk insisted upon the money, and 
showed him the tickets of other passengers 
to prove the correctness of the charge. The 
man then changed his tone, and declared 
that he had not a single farthing left in the 
world, and that it was quite impossible he 
could pay any more. " Then you and your 
family will be put on shore," said the clerk, 
*' and lose the money you have already paid." 
The intending emigrant swore lustily at the 
injustice, and declared that if put on shore 
he would "get an act of Parliament" to put 
an end to such a system of robbery. The 
clerk, however, was obdurate, and the man 
disappeared, muttering as he went that he 
would have his "act of Parliament to pun- 
ish the broker, the clerk, and the captain." 
He returned in a few minutes from below, 
and, without saying a word of what had 
happened, and looking as unconcerned as a 
stranger, coolly presented a £5 note, or 
$24 25, and asked for his change. Such is 
a specimen of the rogueries attempted by 



those who have money. Those who really have 
none at all, or who possibly have not suffi- 
cient to pay their passage, resort to other 
schemes for crossing the Atlantic at a re- 
duced rate, or free of charge altogether, and 
"stow away." This is a practice which is 
carried on to a great and increasing extent. 

After encountering these perils of poverty 
and cheating, the crowd becomes finally 
located on board of ship, and assigned their 
quarters for the voyage. It is a strange 
place for the new-comers, and their admiration 
of the new life they have entered upon be- 
gins with the first day's issue of regulation 
food. The experience of most of them in 
the edible way, has hitherto been confined 
to "murphys" or, at most, Indian meal, 
which they heartily detest as " starvation 
porridge." They now come to the allow- 
ances, as above, handed them by law. The 
meal, the tea, the rice, the sugar, and molas- 
ses prove frequently a puzzler — tea in par- 
ticular — and it is not unfrequently the case 
that a brawny Pat, who could do a good 
turn at Donnybrook fair, but whose knowl- 
edge of drinkables is confined to whisk}', 
will, after gravely surveying the tea for a 
while, deliberately fill his pipe with a por- 
tion, and smoke it with much satisfac- 
tion. Others, with more expansive ideas, 
will at times mix the whole in a mass, and 
boil it into a thick soup or pudding, well 
specked with the expanded tea leaves. In- 
formation comes with experience, however, 
and the first serious experience is sea-sick- 
ness, which utterly prostrates them, mind 
and body, aggravating every dirty habit 
they may have formed. Then is ex- 
erted the utmost power of the captain to 
enforce cleanliness ; he usually selects a 
dozen or two of the more intelligent, and 
investing them with authority, a general 
turn-out, and a thorough cleaning every 
morning, and in all weathers, is compelled. 

By the rigid observance of this rule, much 
of the former sickness and mortality has 
been avoided. A voyage of some thirty 
days usually brings the human freight with- 
in sight of New York harbor. It almost in- 
variably occurs that in the first delight of 
arrival eveiy utensil and article of bedding 
is pitched overboai'd. No matter how poor 
are the people, or how hardly the things 
may have been come by, over they go ; and 
cleaning for the landing takes place. How 
full of anxieties is that landing ! 



240 



IMMIGRATION. 



CHAPTER III. 

LANDING IN NEW-YORK— FUTURE HOMES. 
The Castle Garden, at New York, is allot- 
ted for the reception of the passengers under 
the Commission of Emigration, which was 
organized by law in 1847, and which 
charges a tax of two dollars per head on 
each immigrant, applying the proceeds to 
the support of the needy and destitute 
among them. The operations of this com- 
mission have become very extensive. It has 
charge of the Quarantine. Since its organ- 
ization it has raised large hospitals on 
Ward's Island, where the sick are cared for. 
They are also sent to the Marine Hospital 
and the New York Hospital, and they re- 
imburse the towns and counties of the state 
for the charges they incur for support of 
poor aliens, and advance money to immigrants 
on pledge of baggage, without interest. In 
the year 1859 $2,180 was so advanced to 162 
families, and $2,031 was paid back. The 
operations of the commission in 1859 were: — 

Receipts for comniutatioa $159,112 

Other receipts 23,454 



Total receipts 182,560 

Balance in hand, January, 1859 5,65(5 



Office $16,486 

Hospitals 6,380 

Counties for support 23,555 

Castle Garden 34,727 

Agent at Rochester 1,087 

" Albany 2,160 

" Buffalo 2,601 



$188,222 



Ward's Island 54,890 

Marine Hospital 18,360 

Floating " 4,647 

Forwarding Immigrants, &c., &c. 32,130 

Incidental 721 



$197,744 

This account gives a general idea of the 
operations of the commission. The whole 
amount disbursed by the commission. May 
5, 1847, to Jan. 1, 1860, was 1834,786. The 
proportion who go into hospital appears to 
be about six per cent, of the arrivals. 

A large majority of those who here land 
have their friends awaiting them to guide 
them to their future homes. Numbers have 
to seek their way amid numberless perils. But 
nearly all these have come provided with in- 
structions more or less minute, derived from 
the numerous agents in Europe of the Ameri- 
can land companies, who hold out induce- 
ments to settlers. The Germans are mostly 
inclined to agriculture, and they soon find 
their way, by the emigrant trains of the great 
trunk lines of railroads. Those lines have all 
exerted themselves to profit by the movement. 
The following table, from official sources, 
gives the number of Germans and British 
under each head, and also the aggregate of 
all the aliens arrived since the returns have 
been regularly kept. Some of the passengers 
report themselves from Great Britain, with- 
out stating which portion. These are under 
the head "Great Britain." Thus, the total 
from Great Britain to 1859, is 2,670,059, of 
which, 1,415.399 are reported from Great 
Britain, 289,654 from England, 918,729 from 
Ireland, 46,277 from Scotland. 



3F PASSENGERS THAT ARRIVED IN EACH YEAR IN 


THE UNITED STATES FROM 


ENGLAND, IRELAND, 


SCOTLAND, GREAT BRITAIN, AND 


GERMANY, WITH THE TOTA 


L FROM 


ALL COUNTRIES. 




England. 


Ireland. 


Scotland. 


Gt. Britain. 


Germany. Switzerland 


Prussia. 


Total. 


1820, 


1,782 


1,725 


268 


2,249 


948 


31 


20 


8,385 


1821, 


1,036 


1,518 


293 


1,881 


365 


93 


18 


9,127 


1822, 


856 


1,346 


198 


1,088 


139 


110 


9 


6,911 


1823, 


851 


1,051 


180 


926 


179 


47 


4 


6,354 


1824, 


713 


1,575 


257 


1,064 


224 


253 


6 


7,912 


1825, 


1,002 


4,157 


113 


1,711 


448 


106 


2 


10,199 


1826, 


1,459 


3,333 


230 


2,705 


495 


245 


16 


10,837 


1827, 


2,521 


3,282 


460 


7,689 


435 


297 


7 


18,875 


1828, 


2,735 


5,266 


1,041 


8,798 


1,806 


1,592 


45 


27,382 


1829, 


2,149 


3,106 


111 


5,228 


582 


314 


15 


22,520 


1830, 


733 


747 


29 


2,365 


1,972 


109 


4 


23,322 


1831, 


251 


1,647 


226 


6,123 


2,395 


63 


18 


22,633 


1832, 


944 


5,120 


158 


11,545 


10,168 


129 


26 


53,179 


1833, 


2,966 


4,511 


1,921 


4,166 


6,823 


634 


155 


58,640 


1834, 


1,129 


6,772 


110 


26,953 


17,654 


1,389 


32 


65,365 


1835, 


468 


5,148 


63 


24,218 


8,245 


548 


66 


45,374 


1836, 


420 


2,152 


106 


41,006 


20,139 


445 


568 


76,24'^ 


1837, 


896 


737 


14 


39,079 


23.036 


383 


704 


79,3iJ 


1838, 


157 


1,225 


48 


16,635 


11,369 


123 


314 


38,714 


1839, 


62 


1,199 




32,973 


19,794 


607 


1,234 


68,069 


1840, 


318 


077 


21 


41,027 


88,581 


500 


1,123 


84,066 


1841, 


147 


3,291 


35 


50,487 


13,727 


751 


1,564 


80,289 




IRISH EMIGRANTS JUST ARRIVED IN NEW YORK. 



H \|i|iiiii 'tlili'li"i'iHi'"iii 




llilMlML.N I.N nil. ( DMMd.N ('(UNCII,, NEW YORK. 



LANDING IN NEW YORK FUTURE HOMES. 



241 





England. 


Ireland. 


Scotland. 


Gt. Britain. 


Germany. S 


witzerlan 


I. Prussia. 


Total. 


1842, 


i,74:i 


4,S44 


24 


6G,73G 


18,287 


483 


2,083 


104,565 


184H, 


3,517 


1,173 


41 


23,369 


11,432 


553 


3,009 


52,496 


1844, 


1,357 


5,491 


23 


40,972 


19,22G 


839 


1,505 


78,615 


1845, 


1,710 


8,641 


368 


53,312 


33,138 


471 


1,217 


114,371 


1846, 


2,854 


12,949 


305 


57,824 


57,010 


698 


551 


154,416 


1847, 


3,476 


29,640 


337 


95,385 


73,444 


192 


837 


234,968 


1848, 


4,445 


24,802 


659 


118,277 


58,014 


319 


451 


226,527 


1849, 


G,03G 


31,321 


1,060 


175,841 


60,062 


13 


173 


297,024 


1850, 


6,797 


40,180 


860 


167,242 


78,137 


375 


759 


369,980 


1851, 


5,306 


55,874 


966 


210,594 


71,322 


427 


1,160 


379,466 


1852, 


30,007 


159,548 


8,148 


2,544 


143,575 


2,788 


2,343 


371,603 


1853, 


28,867 


162,649 


6,00G 


2,703 


140,653 


2,748 


1,293 


368,645 


1854, 


48,901 


101,606 


4,605 


5,141 


206,054 


2,953 


8,955 


427,883 


1855, 


38,871 


49,G27 


5,275 


1,176 


G6,219 


4,433 


5,699 


200,877 


1856, 


25,904 


54,349 


3,297 


15,457 


63,807 


1,780 


7,221 


200,436 


1857, 


27,804 


54,361 


4,182 


26,493 


83,798 


2,080 


7,983 


251,306 


1858, 


14,638 


26,873 


1,946 


12,372 


42,291 


1,056 


.3,019 


123,126 


1859, 


13,826 


35,210 


2,293 


10,045 


39,315 


833 


2,469 


121,282 


1860, 


13,001 


48,637 


1,613 


15,123 


50,746 


913 


3,745 


153,040 


1861, 


8,970 


23,797 


7G7 


9,938 


30,189 


1,007 


1,472 


91,920 


1862, 


10,947 


23,351 


657 


13,035 


24,985 


G43 


2,544 


91,987 


1863, 


24,065 


55,916 


1,940 


40,878 


31,989 


690 


1,173 


176,282 


1864, 


26,096 


63,523 


3,476 


23,856 


54,379 


1,896 


2,897 


193,416 


1865, 


15,038 


29,772 


3,037 


64,390 


80,797 


2,859 


2,627 


249,061 


1866, 


2,770 


32312 


672 


95,866 


110,440 


3,823 


5,452 


318,494 


1867, 




69,977 




55,543 


121,240 


1,168 


12,186 


298,358 


1868, 


11,107 


42,747 


1,949 


51,779 


111, .503 


3 261 


11,567 


297,215 


1869, 


55,046 


51,290 


12,415 


28,965 


124,766 


3,488 


22 


395,922 


1870, 


59,488 


56,628 


11,820 


23,153 


91,168 


2,474 


111 


376.314 



792,846 2,288,198 128,900 3,230,880 3,723,493 92,609 155,191 7,551,383 



We give the following table, compiled 
from the immigration returns and the census 
of 1860, because the census bureau has not 
yet (Jan. 1872) tabuhvted its returns of this 
character for the census of 1870. It will be 
understood that the net diflcrence, 925,.329, 
between the arrivals for forty years, and the 
residents represents those who have died 
and those who have returned to their native 
countries. It is evident that there must have 
been a very considerable number who came 
into the country across the lines from British 
America and Mexico without being reported 
to the Bureau of Emigration, since the dates 
of emigrants in forty years should alone 
amount to more than two-elevenths of tlie 
Aviiole numl)er, and it has been ascertained 
that in those|prty years, full 300,000 return- 
ed to Europe. We may then with contidence 
state the entire immigration into this comi- 
try from 1820 to the close of 1870, as not 
less than 8,000,000. The deficiency column 
in the table below, is partly due to the im- 
perfection of the census returns, and partly 
to the unwillingness of many emigrants to 
reveal on their fii-st arrival their native 
country. It is noticeaI)le that about one- 
fourth of the whole ntimber of arrivals re- 
ported in the table, were from Great Britain 
and Ireland. 

1.5* 



STATKMKNT OP THE NUMIIER OF ALIENS ARRIVRT) IN THE UNITED 
FROM 1820 TO 18t)0, BOTH INCLUSIVE, AND THE NUMlil'.R OF 
EACH NATION RESIDENT IN TUE UNION DY THE CENSUS OF 1S60. 

CuuHtrtcs. 

England 802,665 

Ireland 967,366 

Scoiland 47,990 

Wales 7,93") 

Gt. Britain & Ireland. . 1,425,018 



Total 

J'ranoe 

Spain 

Portugal , 

lielgium 

Prussia 

(ierniany 

Holland' 

Denmark 

Norway and Sweden. 

Poland 

Russia 

Turkey 

Switzerland 

Italy 

Greece 

Sardinia 

Kurope 

Uritish Amerioa .... 

South Ameriea 

Central America. .. . 
Mexico 



West Indies 

China 

.^sia 



Africa 

A zores 

Canary Islands 

Sandwiih Islands 

Australia 

South Sea Islands 

18 nations not specified, 
Not stated 



2,750,874 

208.063 

16,248 

2,614 

9,802 

60,432 

1,486,044 

21,579 

r.,ri40 

36,129 

1,374 

170 

37,7:J3 

11,202 

116 

2,0.'J0 

526 

117,142 

6,201 

968 

17,766 

40,487 

41,443 

27 

289 

3,242 

286 

79 

109 

79 

1,256 

180,854 



431 692 
1,611 ..^04 

Ki^r.lS 

4.-).7r.3 

l,Sti2 

2,199,079 

109,870 

4,244 

4,116 

9,072 

227,6(51 

1,074,475 

28,281 

9.962 

62,620 

7,298 

3,160 

128 

53.327 

10,518 

328 

1,159 

1,403 

249.970 

8.263 

2r.3 

27 466 

7,353 

a'-.,565 

1,231 

626 



r.51,795 
98,193 
12 004 

""796 

4li,!3C9 



l,f02 
167,2:9 



42 
'684 

'1,559 



2,938 
735 



a3,134 

5,878 



6,702 

4,422 

26,491 

5, tea 

1.786 

'15,594 

"'2i2 

"'877 
132,8:8 



9,700 



1,052 
194 



1361 
4.Y> 

1,419 
286 



2,510 



I.SIO 
:K.3 



179 488 



Total aliens 5,062,414 4,136,175 1,301,419 370,' - J 

Excess of arrivals 925,329 



242 



IMMIGRATION. 



Let us next see where these emigrants 
make their homes on this side the ocean. 
Here again we must take the census of 1860 
for the details, as the Census Bureau is not 
likely to furnish those of 1870 for a year 
or two to come. The larger part of the Irish 
it will be seen, settled in the New England 
and Middle States, over 1,100,000 of the 



1,600,000 remaining in these States. Of the 
Germans a large proportion migrated west- 
ward and have established themselves in the 
Mississippi and Missouri valleys, and con- 
siderable numbers have gone to the Pacific 
coast. The Scandinavians have settled large- 
ly in the northwest. The " total " column 
includes emisfrants of all nationalities : — 



states and Territories. England. 

Alabama 1,174 

Arkansas 375 

California 12,227 

Connecticut 8,875 

Delaware 1,581 

Florida 320 

Georgia 1,122 

Illinois 41,745 

Indiana 9,304 

Iowa 11,522 

Kansas 1,400 

Kentucky 4,503 

Louisiana 3,989 

Maine 2,677 

Maryland 4,235 

Massachusetts 23,848 

Michigan 25,743 

Minnesota 3,462 

Mississippi 844 

Missouri 10,009 

New Hampshire 2,291 

New Jersey 15,852 

New York 106,01 1 

North Carolina 729 

Ohio 32,700 

Oregon 690 

Pennsylvania 46,546 

Rhode Island 6,356 

South Carolina 757 

Tennessee 2,001 

Texas 1,695 

Vei-mont 1,632 

Virginia 4,104 

Wisconsin 30,543 

Colorado Territory 352 

Dakota Territory 35 

District of Columbia 1,030 

Nebraska Territory 1,471 

Nevada Territory 294 

New Mexico Territory .... 145 

Utah Territory 7,084 

Washington Territoiy. .. . 419 

Total 431,692 





Great Britain 






Sweden & 


Total 


Ireland. 


not specified. Germany. 


Prussia. 


Switzerland. Norway. 


Foreign. 


5,664 


5 


2,209 


392 


138 


206 


12,352 


1,312 


8 


989 


154 


42 


30 


3,741 


33,147 


103 


17,002 


4,644 


1,714 


2,120 


146,528 


55,445 


50 


7,311 


1,214 


275 


64 


80,696 


5,832 


.... 


997 


266 


34 


8 


9,165 


827 


3 


404 


74 


13 


42 


3,.309 


6,.586 


.... 


2,017 


455 


62 


50 


11,671 


87,573 


669 


106,257 


24,547 


5,748 


11,S61 


324,643 


24,495 


21 


54,638 


12.067 


3,813 


367 


118,184 


28,072 


23 


30,758 


7,797 


2,519 


7,153 


106,081 


3,888 


7 


3,788 


530 


260 


345 


12,691 


22,249 


2 


24,263 


2,964 


753 


53 


59,799 


28,207 


1 


21,875 


2,739 


878 


2.')6 


81,029 


15,290 


37 


307 


77 


13 


101 


37,453 


24,872 


.... 


41,057 


2,827 


177 


55 


77,536 


185,434 


294 


8,479 


1,482 


335 


856 


260,114 


30,049 


11 


29,152 


9,635 


1,269 


706 


149,092 


12,831 


4 


12,423 


5,977 


1,085 


11,603 


58,728 


3,893 


1 


1,691 


317 


138 


36 


8,558 


43,464 


114 


64,795 


23,692 


4,585 


385 


160,541 


12,737 


2 


322 


90 


12 


25 


20,938 


62,006 


1 


30,881 


2,891 


1,144 


153 


122,790 


498,072 


131 


227,226 


29,036 


6,166 


2,217 


998,640 


889 


.... 


696 


69 


10 


13 


3,299 


76,826 


148 


151,093 


17,117 


11,078 


136 


328,254 


1,266 


5 


856 


222 


71 


99 


5,122 


201,939 


14 


123,801 


14,443 


4,404 


533 


430,505 


25,285 


.... 


728 


87 


37 


71 


37,394 


4,906 


1 


2,595 


352 


33 


42 


9,986 


12,498 


3 


3,515 


354 


566 


46 


21,226 


3,480 


27 


14,318 


6,235 


453 


479 


43,422 


13,480 


42 


205 


14 


4 


1 


32,743 


16,501 


32 


9,561 


564 


267 


65 


35,058 


49,961 


24 


70,896 


52,983 


4,722 


22,115 


276,927 


624 


1 


522 


54 


25 


39 


2,666 


42 


. • < ■ 


22 




1 


129 


1,774 


7,258 


• • • • 


3,025 


229 


97 


17 


12,484 


1,431 


2 


1,346 


396 


228 


173 


6,351 


651 


.... 


388 


66 


19 


57 


2,064 


827 


1 


445 


124 


27 


5 


6,723 


278 


5 


139 


19 


78 


355 


12,754 


1,217 


10 


483 


89 


34 


55 


3,144 



1,611,304 1,802 1,073,475 227,661 53,327 ^,620 4,136,175 



The census of 1870 makes the whole num- 
ber of persons of foreign birth in the United 
States in June, 1870, 5,566,546, being an 
increase of 1,427,849, in the ten years, while 
the actual immigration of that ten years was 
about 2,350,000. 

The statement of the number of persons 
of foreign birth in the different states and 
territories in 1870, reveals some intei'esting 
facts. Of the territories Idaho has the larg- 



est population of foreigners, over one-half, 
while Montana and Utah have each about 
two-fifths ; of the states, Nevada has three- 
sevenths, Minnesota four-elevenths, Califor- 
nia five-fourteenths, Wisconsin a little more 
than a third, and New York about three- 
elevenths. Several other states range be- 
tween one-fourth and one-fifth foreigners. 
The Southern states, though increasing their 
foreign population, have not a large share. 



LANniNQ IN NEW YORK — FUTURE DOMES. 



213 



The amount ®f money or capital drawn 
from Europe by the emijjrants is a question 
of much iinj)ortMnce. The cost of prepara- 
tion for the voyage in Europe, the co-^t of 
tlie passage, and the expenses incurred after 
arriving until the new home is finally reach- 
ed, cannot, together, fall short of one hundred 
dollars each ; and many have a small capital 
in addition, with which to begin the world. 
The sums transported are often much larger. 
In IHa-i the migration from the Palatinate, 
as stated in a Bremen report, was 8,908, and 
they carried $1 ,024,000. The reports of the 
New York commissioners of emigration as 
the result of their investigation, show that the 
average of money brought is very near one 
hundred dollars pei' head — an amount which 
l)ecomes formidable when taken in connec- 
tion with the aggregate numbers arriving. 
This is exhibited in the following summary 
of arrivals : — 



Whole Number Sums at 

No. of of $100 

Arrivals. Aliens. per head. 

Ten vears to Sept. 30, 1S29, 151,038 128,502 12,850,200 

l*5:t, 572,716 533,381 53,838,100 

" " 1849 1,479,478 1,427,337 142,7-33,700 

Dec. 31, 1850; 3,075,900 2,814,-554 281,4.55,400 

Eleven y'rs to Dec. 81, 1870, 2,856,341 2,451,701 245,170,100 



Total 8,1-36,071 7,360,475 736,047,-500 

This is an immense sum, and poured forth 
even in small streams, has had an important 
e^ect upon the prosperity of the country at 
large, independent of the larger suras invested 
in land, stock, and utensils. On the other 
hand, very considerable sums are sent out of 
the country in aid of the emigrants, by their 
friends hei'e, who have earned the money at 
.-ervice and otherwise. Qn this point, in- 
formation has from time to time been gath- 
e;"ed, of the houses through which remittances 
are made. These remittances are mostly 
small drafts, purchased in New York, for 
sums varying from five to one hundred dol- 
lars. Tlie lattej? sum is seldom reached, 
however. The remittances of five of these 
houses, in one year, were as follows : — 



Average 
amount. 
House A, number of drafts, 1,934 $32,125 $16 5-8 

" B, " " 6,198 123,290 19 7-8 

" C, '• " 13,425 266,395 19 7-8 

" D, " " 18,175 36.3,140 19 9-10 

" E, " " 40,542 810,835 20 



Total 5 houses 1 year, 80,274 §1,595,785 

These do not include the large banking- 
houses, of which th(;re are no returns, but it 
is said the Barincf Brothers alone send 



$2,500,000, The British emigrant commis- 
sioners reported in thirteen years ending 
with 1860, i3;;3G,191,733 sent to the United 
Kingdom alone, and this increasing amount 
continued till lSo7. 

With the renewal, on a large scale, of em- 
igration after the war, the amounts sent 
largely increased, and amounted to more 
than $20,000,000 per annum. This is not 
now returned to this country as passage 
money, for nearly all the emigrant ships are 
owned in Great Britain or in Germany. 
The United States gold coin exported to 
England and Germany is bought up to some 
extent by emigrants, but not as much as for- 
merly. The aggregate amount of money 
brought here by immigrants in the fifty-one 
years ending Dec. 31, 1870, was, as we have 
seen, $736,000,000. Deducting at lea^t 
$236,000,000 for remittances made from 
this side to the families of emigrants, there 
still remains the large sum of $500,000,000 
brought here by immigrants, besides their 
productive labor after their arrival. 

The legal rights of the emigrants, after 
they become naturalized, are the same in 
all respects as those of the native born citi- 
zens, with the single exception that they are 
not eligible to the office of president or 
vice-president of the United States. No 
law can be passed to abridge the freedom of 
their speech, or the free exercise of their re- 
ligion, whatever they may be — even the en- 
joyment of Mormonism has been an attrac- 
tion to some. Their right to hold real es^ 
tate is perfect, as is the security afforded to 
persons, property, and papers, and they may 
be elected, or may elect to any office exce[)t 
those named. 

Another very interesting feature of the 
passenger movement, although not strictly 
embraced within the emigration, is the num- 
ber of United States citizens who annually 
arrive from abroad. It is not until within 
a few years that a record has been kept of 
the number of citizens who go abroad each 
year, but the arrivals of ixissengers,,not im- 
migrants, is an interesting item. 



NUMBER OF NATIVE CITIZENS AND FOREIGN VIS- 
ITORS (not immigrants) arriving 

FROM ABROAD. 

Males. Females. Not stated. Tcrtal. 

1820-1830, 19,542 3,529 62 «3,134 

18-30-1840, 23,036 7,288 31 34,345 

1840-18.50, 38,952 12,999 190 52,141 

1850-1860, 224,410 30,924 .... 201,. 348. 

1869-1871, 99,373 52,030 ... 151,403; 



244 



IMMIGKATION. 



Tiie iiuinl)3r of departures for Europe is, 
however, much greater than the arrivals of 
passengers not emigrants. For the year 
ending June 30, 1870, it was : Males, 60,505, 
Females, 21,408, Total, 81,1)13. This was 
about an average year — the departures in 

1869 being somewhat fewer, and those of 
1871 considerably larger. It would be a 
very moderate estimate of the amount ex- 
pended or carried with these outgoing pas- 
sengers to fix it at $1,200 per head, and yet 
this would give $98,295,600 as the amount 
of money taken out of the country in a sin- 
gle year by European voyagers. 

The numbers of former emigrants w^ho 
returned home with accumulated means, ad- 
ded to the sums expended abroad by Amer- 
icans, will probably at least cancel the 
amounts actually brought into the country 
by emigrants. But the vast amount of pro- 
ductive skill and labor that is brought into 
the country, and applied to the vast waste of 
land, develops more capital in a ratio which 
astonishes the observer. The number of 
persons who arrive in the United States in a 
single year, equals the population of a whole 
state. Thus the number that arrived in 

1870 were 436,496 ; the total white popula- 
tion of the state of Minnesota was, in 1870, 



439,706, and there were nine states which 
contained a smaller number of population. 
From 1859, the tide of immigration, which 
for two or three years previous had ebbed, 
began to flow again in something like its old 
abundance, and, though checked in 1861 and 
1862 by the war and the presence of rebel 
privateers in the Atlantic, it soon increased 
again, and from 1863 to 1871 has been very 
large. In 1860, the whole number of alien 
emigrants was 153,640. In 1861, it was 
only 91,920; in 1862, 91,987; in 1863, 
176,282; in 1864, 193,416; in 1865, 249,- 
061; in 1866,318,494; in 1867, 298,358; 
in 1868, 297,215 ; in 1869, 395,922 ; in 
1870, 436,496; in 1871, 386,271. It is a 
noteworthy fact that the later immigrants, 
those of the last six or seven years, are, 
socially and' (pecuniarily, of a much higher 
class than those of former years. A very 
large proportion of them are well, or at least 
tolerably educated, and many of them pos- 
sess sufficient means to enable them to go 
to the "West and procure farms, or engage 
in other employments. Of the immigrants 
in 1871, 82,554 were from Germany, 67,439 
from Ireland, 56,530 from England, 28,925 
from Great Britain, not specified, and 160,823 
from other countries. 



SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 



INTRODUCTORY. 

Three quarters of a century ago, there 
were in the whole United States only about 
as many people as there are now in the state 
of New York ; and now we have grown from 
less than four millions to thirty millions — 
having increased nearly eight-fold. 

These large numbers will indistinctly rep- 
resent the general progress of the nation ; 
and the average social prosperity of each 
citizen has increased in a ratio materially 
larger. The actual amount of this increase 
in intelligence, wealth, and comfort, cannot 
be set down in figures, but will be under- 
stood as well as the case will permit, from 
an enumeration of details of improvements 
in social and domestic life. 

There were sufficient reasons for a some- 
what uncommonly low average of comfort 
at the end of the Revolution. The seven 
years' war had, of course, almost destroyed 
all industry, except farming and a few indis- 
pensable manufactures and trades. It had 
also drained all the specie out of the country, 
or frightened it into secret hoards ; in con- 
sequence of which the currency was entirely 
disorganized. Government credit was at 
such a low ebb, that the bills of the Unit- 
ed States (known as "continental money") 
would not purchase even such articles of 
comfort or luxury as existed, except at enor- 
mous nominal rates ; nor was the paper 
money of the separate states in much better 
reputation. Thus, a hundred dollars in these 
depreciated bills was paid for a mug of ci- 
der ; five hundred dollars for a bowl of 
punch ; a thousand dollars for a pair of 
shoes ; twenty-seven thousand dollars for an 
ordinary horse; and " part of an old shirt" 
was set in an inventory at fifteen dollars. 
The worthlessness of this money rendered 
it necessary to make payments, to a great 
extent, in barter — a mode of trading wliich 
always keeps the average of comfort and 
luxury down at a standard little above that 
of the better class of savajres. 



But even if this paper currency had been 
worth its face, or if specie had been plenty, 
it would have been possible to buy only a 
small share of comforts or luxuries compared 
with those now attainable, for the plain rea- 
son that they did not exist. 

Beginning at this low period of average 
prosperity, we shall now rapidly sketch the 
progress of the country, up to the present 
time, under the general heads of 

1. Domestic Architecture. 

2. Furniture. 

3. Food. 

4. Dress. 

5. Mental culture, intercourse, etc. 



CHAPTER I. 

DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE. 

Eighty years ago, houses were much more 
evenly distributed over the country than is 
now the case. There has ever since been a 
continual tendency to draw together into 
towns ; and this tendency has been much 
assisted by the increased ease of travelling 
and transportation. At that time, therefore, 
there was much less difference between a 
country house and a city house than at 
present. 

In the older parts of the northern states, 
the houses then built were often of the style 
called "lean-to," or "linter;" that is, with 
one side of the roof carried down so far as 
to cover an additional tier of rooms on the 
ground floor, or a wide shed. Another com- 
mon style, rather later in use, was the "gam- 
bril roofed," where the roof rose at a very 
steep pitch from the eaves, about half the 
length of the rafters, and then fell in to the 
ridge-pole at a much flatter angle. This 
gave a very roomy garret. Dormer win- 
dows were very common, to light rooms fin- 
ished off' in the garrets. 

Timber was plenty, and houses were built 



24G 



SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 



almost exclusively of wood, and often with 
beams and rafters of dimensions that would 
now seem truly enormous. Brick was com- 
paratively little used, until lumber grew 
scarcer in the older parts of the country, 
and "brick machines," first invented by 
Kinsley a little before 1800, had rendered 
the production of brick more rapid and 
cheaper than could be afforded by hand la- 
bor. Stone was scarcely used at all, except 
by a very few wealthy persons. Sometimes 
the spaces between the timbers of a frame 
house w^ere filled in with brick, so as to 
make a sort of brick body to the house, with 
wooden bones, and with the clapboards put 
on over these. 

A beam was very often left running across 
the ceiling of a room, six or eight inches be- 
low the plaster, and was a convenient place 
for driving nails or pegs on which to hang 
dried apples, seed-corn, peppers, hams, bas- 
kets, rope, etc., etc. In like manner the 
uprights often projected into the corner of 
the room, giving it a kind of coarse cornice. 
The centre of the house was usually occu- 
pied by the chimney stack — an immense 
pile of brick or stone, sometimes occupying 
almost a quarter of the ground plan. In the 
different sides of this huge mass opened the 
great old-fashioned fire-places, in many of 
which one could sit in the corner while the 
fire burned, and see the sky through the 
chimney-top. Half a cord of wood might 
burn at once in some of these great fire- 
places, and yet, in the bitter cold of a north- 
ern winter, water would freeze at the other 
side of the room. This was by reason of 
the thinness of the walls, the imperfect fit- 
ting of doors and windows, and above all, 
the great proportion of heat that went off 
up chimney, and of cold that came down. 
Hinged to staples at the chimney-back was 
a crane, with its pot-hooks and hangers, or 
trammels, to accommodate the machinery 
of the cook. At one side of the fire-place 
was the oven — a cave in the masonry of the 
chimney-stack — and, usually, with an ash- 
hole underneath it. A great shovel, or 
" slice," with a handle five or six feet long, 
and a big pair of tongs to match, were for 
oven use ; and to heat this affair thoroughly 
enough to bake bread, usually occupied an 
hour or an hour and a half, and consumed 
two or three good armfuls of dry wood. 

Housfes were commonly low " between 
joints," to economize heat. Roofs were 
shingled, with split shingles ; the sawed 



shingles being little used until a little after 
1800, from which time many patents for 
shingle sawing were taken out. A machine 
for getting out shingles Avas patented, how- 
ever, as early as 1797. Slate roofs were not 
much used, and tiles scarcely at all. Cy- 
press wood is used for shingles at the south, 
instead of pine ; exjwsure to the weather 
turns it to a distinct, but disagreeable black. 
Sheet tin has been extensively used for roof- 
ing, but very often leaks badly from the 
rusting, expansion, and contraction of the 
tin. Since 1840, oiled or tarred canvass, 
asphalt, asbestos, mineral paint, tarred felt 
or paper, heavily coated with gravel, etc., 
have been used in place of shingles, or tin, 
and some of them with good success. Since 
the introduction of the Mansard or French 
roofs, slate is more used, and recently enam- 
eled sheet iron, imitating slate, has become 
quite common. 

A modern invention in domestic architec- 
ture is the plan of building what are called 
"gravel walls," by moulding gravel and 
loose stone with mortar, into a kind of con- 
crete wall on the spot, lifting up the mould- 
ing cases when the contents are firmly set, 
and moulding another section. This results 
in a house which may be said to be of one 
stone, for if the materials are good, and 
well put together, they harden into an arti- 
ficial breccia. This plan has not, however, 
been sufficiently proved ; and a wrong choice 
of sand, gravel, or lime has often caused 
the crumbling and ruin of the whole fabric- 
Walls wei'e usually finished inside with 
whitewash, paper, or paint ; the use of stucco, 
or " hard finish," being rare until within the 
past thirty years. All house iron-work and 
trimmings of a better kind were imported 
from England, until within the present cen- 
tury. Wrought nails were used ; cut nails 
having been invented, and their manufiicture 
variously perfected by several Americans, 
from about 1791, when the earliest patent 
on the subject was issued, down to the pres- 
ent time. Jacob Perkins, of Newburyport, 
and Byiugton, of Connecticut, were two of 
the most prominent inventors in this line. 
Such latches, hinges, etc., as were then 
made in this country, were wrought iron, 
and clumsy and inconvenient. All these 
trimmings are, however, now manufactured 
to great perfection in our own workshops. 
Among tlie improvements of the last forty 
years in house trimmings, a convenient one 
is the introduction of weights running over 



DOMESTIC ARCHITECTURE. 



247 



pullies, to facilitate opening and shutting 
windows. Before these were used, the prac- 
tice was to use various kinds of catches, all 
of which made it necessary to lift the whole 
weight of the sash ; and instead of which 
were often found merely a wooden button 
to turn under, and hold the sash open, or 
even nothing but a stick to hold it up. 

The invention of the planing machine, 
first successfully introduced by William 
Woodworth in 1837, though many patents 
had preceded his, and of the circular saw, 
first patented by Cox, of Georgia, in 1795, 
were important improvements in dressing 
lumber, and cutting it ; as the former could 
turn out boards smoothed, tongued and 
grooved, and fit for flooring, and the latter 
could cut thin work much more cheaply 
than a common saw movement. Another 
machine has been introduced since the year 
1840, for boring auger, holes, and others 
for cutting wooden mouldings, which save 
much time and labor in framing and in 
finishing respectively. During the last 
twenty-five years, also, various new paints 
have L»een introduced, none of which, how- 
ever, have entirely superseded the old-fash- 
ioned oil vehicle and ordinary mineral 
colors. Of these, the principal are prepara- 
tions of zinc, to be used instead of lead, and 
also for a variety of browns and grays ; and 
several "mineral paints," usually finely 
pulverized stone, which are recommended as 
good defences against fire. 

The improvement of the last twenty years 
in architectural designs has been great. Up 
to that time, dwelling houses were built in 
the north most frequently on a plain paral- 
lelogram plan with the common ridge-pole 
roof. A style at that time quite frequently 
adopted for houses of a somewhat preten- 
tious character was that of a Greek temple, 
usually with a row of pillars across one end. 
This absurd misapplication did not flourish 
long, and was succeeded by the Gothic 
cottage style ; and this again, and with ex- 
tensive and well deserved success, by the 
various modifications of the Italian villa style. 
In cities where land is very expensive, two 
styles largely pre\ ail ; the English basement 
house in which the ground floor is occupied 
by a library or reception room, and a dining 
room ; the kitchen, store-room, and cellar, l)c- 
ing in the basement, and the parlors and bed 
rooms on the second and third floors ; antl the 
'' high stoop basement," almost wholly above 
ground, containing the dining-room, kitchen, 



&c., with cellar beneatii. The first floor is 
occupied with the jiarlors and boudoir, and 
the bedrooms are above. The latter is 
the better of the two, but both require as- 
cending and descending too many flights of 
stairs, unless Bridget is allowed to reign 
supreme in all parts of the liouse. Vesti- 
bules or recessed entrances are almost uni- 
versal in these houses. 

A very common arrangement of old-fash- 
ioned houses was to set the house with the 
side toward the street, with the front door 
in the middle, opening into a little vestibule. 
From this the stairs passed up, often turning 
round three sides of the vestibule ; and at 
each side a door led to two front rooms. 
These, often occupying all the ground floor 
of the two-story part, were parlors, or a par- 
lor and a bed-room. Behind these, under 
the "lean-to" roof, was very probably one 
long room, used as kitchen, nursery, and 
sitting-room ; for the parlor was used only 
for great occasions. The second floor was 
laid ofl" as might be convenient. 

The better houses of the southern states 
were built to suit the dift'erent demands of 
the climate — more airily, and usually with 
much piazza room, and not much provision 
for warmth. Eai'ly settlers in the south and 
west invariably put up log houses, whose 
chinmeys were built outside against one end, 
of sticks laid in clay. A mode often used 
was to build two separate square rooms of 
logs, and then to throw one roof over both 
and the space between, thus securing an out- 
door shelter. These log houses were floored 
with " puncheons," that is, small logs split 
once and hewed even. A standing table of 
puncheons, some three-legged stools, a rude 
bedstead, with a bed o*^" leaves or corn- 
husks covered with bufl'aio-hide or bear-skins 
instead of sheet, blanket, and coverlet ; a 
shelf, and a variety of pegs driven into the 
wall, completed almost the entire outside 
and inside of these rugged, but comfort- 
able homes, the nurseries of so many brave 
and great men. In such houses were born 
and brought up Andrew Jackson, Henry 
Clay, and the numberless heroic Indian 
fighters and might}' hunters of the west. 
And such houses are still the homes of 
thousands of the bold pioneers who are ad- 
vancing westward, cru'rying forward the 
limits of civilized society toward the Pacific 
ocean. As the newer states increase in 
population and wealth, the domestic architec- 
ture of the older ones is copied, and dwell- 



248 



SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 



ing houses of the same general character are 
now commonly used in city and country. 

Among the chief improvements in domes- 
tic architecture are those which have been 
applied to modes of warming liouses. The 
earliest improvement on the ancient fire- 
place was the Franklin stove, invented by 
the great philosopher whose name it bears, 
and which was in use before the revolution- 
ary war. Tliese were only shallow iron fire- 
places, with a draft which could be modified 
by a sort of valve, and were used only for 
wood. Large box-stoves, also for wood, 
were the first means used for warming 
churches. Even these were not introduced 
until within the memory of many persons 
now living, and, as is well known, were vio- 
lently resisted by the conservatives, who 
fouglit hard to retain the privilege of morti- 
fying the flesh by freezing fingers and toes 
all day Sunday. 

The introduction of anthracite coal was 
the next step in this department. This had 
been known for years to the hunters and 
trappers of the wild interior of Pennsylva- 
nia, as a black stone sometimes found on the 
mountains, but was not thought combustible, 
any more than granite. 

Some successful attempts had, however, 
been made to burn anthracite ; one by Dr. 
C. T. James, in 1804 ; and one by Judge 
Jesse Fell, of Wilkesbarre, who burned it in 
a grate, in 1808. This brought it gradually 
into use in that vicinity. In 1814, White 
& Hazard, iron-masters in Carbon county, 
bituminous coal becoming scarce, resolved 
to try anthracite in their rolling mill. They 
got a cart-load, at a dollar a bushel, and 
wasted it all in vain endeavors to kindle it. 
Procuring another load, they tried again ; 
but after fruitless endeavors for a whole 
night, the hands shut the furnace door in 
despair and left the mill. Half an hour 
afterward, one of them came back after his 
jacket, and to his surprise found the fur- 
nace door red-hot, and the inside at a strong 
white heat. The discovery was made ; and 
with the use of a similar let-alone policy in 
kindling, anthracite was afterward used in 
furnaces with entire success, an improve- 
ment in quality of product, and a large 
saving of expense. 

Thus introduced, the use of the new fuel 
gradually spread, although so slowly that in 
1820, 'three hundred and sixty-five tons com- 
pletely stocked the Philadelphia market 
for a year. Many patents were now taken 



out for grates, blowers, cooking-stoves, par- 
lor and hall stoves, ranges, and hot-air fur- 
naces. R. Trexler, of Berks county, manu- 
factured stoves for anthracite in 1815 ; and 
the earliest patent for furnaces seems to have 
been that of Thomas Gregg, of Connells- 
ville. Pa., in 1814. Three or four years 
now brought the new fuel into extensive 
use, and from the three hundred and sixty- 
five tons, which was all that was mined in 
1820, the amount had risen in 1849, in 
thirty years, to 3,2.50,000 Ions, and to 12,- 
211,313 tons in 1870, together with nearly 
an equal quantity of bituminous coal. 

Nott's stoves were early much used for 
warming houses with anthracite; Olmsted's 
stove and Bushnell's were in fashion next ; 
the first invented by a college president, the 
second by a college professor, and the third 
by an eminent clergyman. These have 
been supei'seded by the base-burning stoves 
and furnaces, of which there is a variety. 
About the year 1836, Isaac Orr,''a man of 
great inventive talent, patented the air-tight 
stove for wood, which was for a time so 
extensively used as to cause a sort of inter- 
regnum in the reign of anthracite, and 
which is yet frequently seen. Grates, long 
used in England to burn the bituminous 
coal there, were early adapted to anthracite, 
and their cheerful open appearance has kept 
them to some extent in vogue. Hot-air 
furnaces were also invented, as early, at 
least, as 1813 ; but various faults, from the 
too great fierceness and dryness of the heat, 
imperfect defence against fire, etc., rendered 
them on the whole quite unsatisfactory, un- 
til about 1840, when great improvements 
began to be made ; and many of the fur- 
naces now employed atFord a bountiful sup- 
ply of air, almost fresh from out-doors, and 
not too warm and dry for health. 

Apparatuses have also been devised for 
heating buildings by systems of hot-water 
pipes, and by systems of steam pipes ; of 
which the latter, especially in manufacturing 
establishments, offices, public rooms, etc., 
succeed very well, though the heat would 
sometimes be somewhat too slowly diff'used 
for private residences. 

Until within twenty years, scarcely any 
care had been given to the ventilation of any 
buildings, whether public or private. At 
earlier periods, an abundant circulation of 
air was secured by the open chimney, 
throufjh which a strongr current of warm air 
continually rushed up, taking, as has been 




MODERN STYLES OF FURNITURE. 



FURNITURE FURNISHING GOODS, ETC. 



249 



computed, at least nine-tenths of all the lieat 
with it. With the introduction of stoves 
and funiact's, this ventilator was closed, and 
the air of warm rooms became unhealthily 
dry and hot, or vitiated by use, especially in 
schools, ball-rooms, court-rooms, public as- 
semblies, etc. Many disorders were aggra- 
vated or made more common by this state 
of things ; such as headaches, nervous aifcc- 
tions, and lung complaints. Various plans 
of ventilation have been adopted to remedy 
these evils, but the principles of the science 
of pneumatics are even yet so imperfectly 
understood that no entirely satisfactory sys- 
tem of ventilation has yet been devised. 
The modes formerly used for large public 
buildings, such as churches : an opening at 
the ceiling, with a device outside tor form- 
ing an upward current by the help of the 
wind ; in private houses, openings at the 
sides of room-, communicating indirectly 
with the external air ; and where hot-air 
furnaces were used, a pipe supplying air 
from w'ithout, which is warmed by the 
furnace, and passed on into the apart- 
ments, are now to a considerable extent 
giving place to a forced and downward ven- 
tilation, which more etfectually removes the 
foul air, and avoids a curneut of cold air 
near the floor. 

The use of gas for lighting streets and 
houses was first invented by an Englishman 
named Murdoch, and tried at Redruth, in 
Cornwall, in 1792. It was first introduced 
in the city of New York by the old New 
York Gas Company, chartered in 1823. It 
is now used in most of our cities, and its 
deprivation would be thought a very serious 
misfortune. 

An equally, and indeed much more labor- 
saving and convenient improvement in our 
modern domestic architectural arrangements, 
is the introduction of water from water 
works. Water works were commenced in 
New York before the Revolution, in 1774 ; 
but none were erected there until 1797, 
when the Manhattan Company put up a res- 
ervoir on what is now Chambers street. 
These small works were superseded by the 
Croton a<jueiluL't, opened in 1842. Phila"^ 
delphia was first supplied by a steam engine 
in 1799 ; and this was replaced by the 
celebrated Fairmount works, commenced in 
1811. Almost all our larger or more enter- 
prising cities are now provided with aque- 
ducts. 

The fountains thus set flowinjir in our 



houses save all water-carrying, for bathing 
or cleaning purposes, either np or down 
stairs ; for a proper connection with a sew- 
erage system will admit of a sink as well as 
a water pipe in every stor}'. The burden- 
some daily details of housework are thus 
very greatly lightened, and health, and time, 
and exertion very nmch economized by the 
various appliances of -the modem city bath- 
room. 

Within fifteen years, there have been in- 
troduced into many of the more luxurious 
city houses, hoistways, somewhat like those 
used in stores, but upholstered, and, in fact, 
fitted up like little rooms ; these are raised 
and lowered so as to save the exertion of 
using the stairs, and are exceedingly con- 
venient for the old and feeble. 

This brief enumeration of improvements 
in domestic architecture could not properly 
include what ma}^ however, in conclusion^ 
be merely mentioned ; that is, those large 
and --splendidly finished houses which are 
erected by the great millionaires of the pres- 
ent day. The costly frescoes, the statues, 
the extravagant splendor of their fitting, 
the picture-galleries, conservatories, libra- 
ries, etc., etc., though good and beautiful 
in themselves, are exceptions, but have been 
greatly multiplied within the past fifteen or 
twx'uty years. 



\ 



CHAPTER II. 

FURNITURE— FURNISHING GOODS, ETC. 

The furniture of country dwellings during 
the latter part of the last century was scantier 
than now, and, on the whole, of much 
cheaper quality and poorer make, although 
that of the wealthy was often handsomely 
designed, well and massively made, and 
heavily and tastefully ornamented. Little 
machinery was used in manufacturing fur- 
niture, which had, therefore, to be made 
by hand labor. This made patterns more 
numerous, as one design usually served for a 
single side-board, set of chairs, etc., and for 
those made by one workman only ; while 
now, one pattern may serve for thousands of 
sets. There was, therefore, greater variety, 
and often remarkably fine workmanship, and 
even artistic skill. The greater cheapness 
of wood, and the little use made of veneer- 
ing, occasioned much furniture to be made 
of solid wood. Many pieces of this ancient, 



250 



SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 



solid furniture now bring extravagant prices 
at auction, or from a second-hand store, 
where chauce supplies a buyer with taste 
and means. As much as forty, or even six- 
ty dollars each have been given for old- 
fashioned, carved, maliogany chairs ; from 
twenty-five to fifty dollars lor a tall clock, 
etc., etc. 

The increase in the supply of money, the 
decrease of any distinction between classes 
of society, and the general difiusion of 
wealth and comfort, render the ditterence 
between the furniture of the rich, and that 
of the poor, much less at the present day 
than formerly. Comparatively few luxuries 
of any kind are now accessible to the rich, 
which are not so to the farmer and the me- 
chanic. This is not, of course, to be under- 
stood of the very poor, nor the very rich ; 
nor of the most expensive luxuries ; for 
Gobelin carpets an inch thick, marble stat- 
ues, and pictures by great artists, Johannis- 
berg wine, Strasburg pies, and the like, can 
never be possessed except by very few. 

The bedsteads of our grandparents and 
great-grandparents were very commonly 
"four-posters;" that is, they consisted of 
four tall posts, into which were framed the 
side and end pieces. These posts often sup- 
ported a wooden frame covered with cloth, 
somewhat like a roof, and called a "tester," 
from whose four sides hung down the cur- 
tains. Feather beds were universally used. 
Sheets were of linen ; and coverlets of patch- 
work, marseilles, chintz, etc. 

Carpets were comparatively little used ; 
most people contenting themselves with a 
floor, washed clean, sanded, or, at most, 
painted. The carpets used eighty years ago 
were mostly English or Scotch ingrain, though 
a good many home-made rag-carpets were 
also used ; and the price per yard was, per- 
haps, |1.50 to $1.75; not varying very nnich 
from the present price of a fair article, though 
the same sum represented more value then. 
There is a well-known anecdote of an honest 
old farmer who was one day introduced, for 
the first time, to a carpeted room. The car- 
pet, as was usual in those days, was a sort 
of patch in the middle of the room, sur- 
rounded with a wide margin of bare floor. 
The visitor skirted cautiously along the sides 
of the room, and when invited by the lady 
of the house to walk across, excused himself 
with rustic politeness, because, he said, "his 
boots were too dirty to walk on the " kiver- 



Chairs were of hard wood — maple, oak, 
cherry, or mahogany — with seats of wood, 
basket-work, or cushion, covered with cloth, 
haircloth, or leather. Much skill and taste 
was expended on many of the costly solid 
mahogany parlor chairs, and they are even 
now much more stately than most of their 
modern successors. The rocking-chair — a 
truly American invention — dates back to a 
point not ascertained, but certainly not less 
than seventy or eighty years ago. No rock- 
ing-chairs of so antique a pattern as common 
chairs can, however, be found. An early 
improvement upon the old-fashioned wooden 
or wicker chair-seat was the straw-seat, of 
straw or rushes, woven together in four com- 
partments, which converged to the middle 
of the seat. The cane-seat, woven like fine 
basket-work of slender strips of ratan, came 
afterward, and is still much used ; it is 
strong, neat, light, and convenient. Many 
business and study chairs are now made 
with the seat pivoted on a stout iron pin — a 
very convenient invention, rendering it very 
easy to turn round from writing-desk to cus- 
tomer or client. 

Tables were made of oak, pine, cher- 
ry, black walimt, and mahogany. In old- 
fashioned houses may sometimes still be 
seen a small table hinged to the wall at one 
side, so as to turn up flat against it, secured, 
when not in use, by a button. A leg hinged 
on beneath hung flat to the table when thus 
raised, and swung to its right place when 
lowered. Some old tables were enormously 
heavy, framed almost as strongly as a house, 
and with curiously complicated swinging legs 
to hold up the leaves. Such tables were of- 
ten heirlooms, as was much household furni- 
ture. The substantial strength and solid 
materials used rendered it much more fit to 
serve generation after generation than the 
lighter and cheaper articles now made. The 
present "extension tables," which are fre- 
quently used in dining-rooms, were first 
patented in 1843; they draw out within 
certain limits to any length, when additional 
boards supply the top. Thus the same ta- 
ble accommodates either a large party or a 
small one. 

The sideboard was an indispensable arti- 
cle in dining-rooms where it could be afford- 
ed, being used instead of a closet, to hold 
plate, wine, table-linen, cake, etc. 

Bureaus, or chests of drawers, were made 
on a larger scale than now, sometimes tow- 
ering far toward the ceiling, containing a 



FURNITURE FURNISHING GOODS, ETC. 



251 



great mimber of drawers, large and small, 
and oftvn ornamented in a peculiar and 
striking manner at the handles and keyholes, 
with brass v^scutcheons elaborately and fanci- 
fully pierced or carved. 

The movable wash-stands, though still in 
use, have been rephiced in many city houses, 
where aqueduct water in pipes is used, by 
fixed stands, usually fitted with elegant mar- 
ble tops, having fixed basins sunk in them, 
faucets for water, and connecting by waste 
water pipes with sewer. A " water-back," 
or boiler, attached to th« kitchen range or 
stove, is so arranged as to sup[)ly hot water 
through jiipes, from which another faucet 
supi)lies hot water as desired — a most com- 
fortable 2)rovision in cold weather. 

China and ghi-^s ware were much more 
costly than at {)resent ; pressed glass, now 
so extensively nsed, having been introduced 
only witliin the present century. Pewter 
platters and plates were frequently the only 
dishes on a country table. Table crockery 
was of white stoneware, usually blue-edged, 
or of the " w'illow pattern," though some 
heavy china was imported. There was lit- 
tle siher ware, but what there was, was 
more solidly manufocturcd than that now in 
use. Block tin was nnich used until finally 
superseded by Britannia metal, which came 
into use about forty years since ; " albata," 
a sort of white metal, introduced within 
about twenty-five years, and German silver, 
an invention dating back, in this country, 
about twice as far. A still later substitute 
for the precious metals is " oreide," a sort 
of brass, very closely i-esembling gold ; and 
another, discovered within the last fifteen 
years by a French chemist, is aluminum, a 
light, strong metal, resembling silver in ap- 
pearance, which can be extracted from com- 
mon clay, and other aluminous earths. 
This last metal, with its alloys, has already 
come into very extensive use, for household 
as well as other purposes. 

Silver forks were first brought into gen- 
eral' use about thirty-five or forty years 
since. Those previously used were the 
common three-2:)ronged steel forks, or two- 
pronged ones, eitlier of them sufliciently 
inconvenient for carrying loose food to the 
mouth. Another imi)rovemeut, about as 
old, in table furniture, is the invention of 
balanced knife handles, the weight in the 
handle keeping tlie blade oft' the table cloth 
when laid down ; a little thhig, but very 
promotive of cleanliness. 



Instead of the modern Yankee clock, the 
first patent for which was taken out by Eli 
Terry, of Plymouth, Conn., in 1797, were 
used either small Dutch clocks, stuck up on 
the wall, like a swallow's nest, or the old- 
fashioned tall clocks, in cases seven feet 
high, which were sometimes very hand- 
somely ornamented with carving, brass dec- 
orations, and richly painted dials. On the 
broad faces of these old clocks were some- 
times given, besides the hour and the min- 
ute, a whole almanac of indications : the 
time of high tide, moon's age, day of the 
week and month, name of month, year, 
etc., etc. Occasionally, a Avooden bird 
came out and was supposed to sing, or a 
tunc was played when the hour struck. 
A considerable number of these old clocks, 
most of the best of which were made during 
the first quarter of tliis century, are still in 
use, and they are often excellent time-keep- 
ers. 

These observations do not include the 
Mississippi valley, which was just beginning 
to be settled by Anglo-American pioneers 
at the close of the revolutionary war. In 
all that extensive region, the rudest substi- 
tutes for all the supposed indispensable in- 
struments of civilized life were used. Fur- 
niture, indeed, scarcely existed. A bedstead 
and a table, rudely hewn out by the sharp 
axe of the master of the house, some stools 
of the same manufacture, a shelf, a row of 
pegs in the log wall, an iron kettle, which 
often served in its own proper person the 
various purposes of wash-basin, cooking- 
kettle, soup-tureen, slop-dish, dish-pan, 
swill-pail, and hog-trough ; a few tins, or a 
little crockery, a chest or two, a stump hol- 
lowed at the top for a mortar to pound corn, 
and a stick for a pestle — such was the 
scanty furnishing of that day in that region. 
As the population has increased, it has 
brought with it from the older states all 
their improvements, and now no distinc- 
tion can be found between the two sections — 
at least, so far as concerns those of moderate 
or liberal means. 

Lamps, for oil, or candles of tallow, 
sperm, or wax, were the only means of 
lighting either rooms or streets, eighty years 
ago. A great amount of ingenuity has been 
expended on lanqts ; a hundred and thirt}- 
seven patents for them having been issued 
from 17'J8 to 1847, and quite as many moi*e 
since that date. Tlu; variety of these, and 
of the substances to the use of which they 



252 



SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 



are adapted, is remarkable. There are yet 
some families which make their own mould 
or dip tallow candles ; but only a few. 
Those who still use candles, mostly, either 
indulge in the costly luxury of wax or 
sperm, or use some of the various lately 
invented substitutes, introduced within twen- 
ty or thirty years, such as the so-called 
"margarine," "stearine," etc., made from 
lard, or the more recent " paraffine " can- 
dles, of a material extracted from coal or 
petroleum. The first innovation upon the 
old-fashioned custom of using oil lamps — 
not, however, including in this term the 
Argand ami similar modifications of it — was 
the introduction of lamps for the use of 
burning-fluid and of camphene, which were 
preparations of oil of turpentine and alco- 
hol, and though neat and convenient to use, 
and giving a pleasant light, were, in careless 
hands, the occasion of a terrible number of 
deaths and maimings l)y burning. These 
fluids were in general use during more than 
twenty years. Not long after the introduction 
of camphene, a large number of lamps were 
invented for burning lard oil, then just be- 
ginning to be manufactured, and also lard, 
tallow, and other gross animal fats. About 
thirty patents w^ere issued for lard lamps 
alone, during 1842 and 1843, including 
lamps of the common standard style, argavid 
and solar patterns, etc. These lamps, in 
some cas6s, gave a very good light, but it 
proved troublesome to light them during 
cold weather, and thf y required much greasy 
work in cleaning, ( u . 

During the last tw^enty years, another 
c . -s of illuminators has come into use, and 
are now almost universally used where there 
is no gas. These are the various oils known 
as coal oil, kerosene, astral oil, etc., etc., 
distilled or purified from the crude petrole- 
um of Western Pennsylvania, West Vir- 
ginia, Ohio, and (^^anada ; the heavy oils 
from these wells, and from the shales and 
fatty coals being used for lubricating jiui- 
poses. They require a chimney for burn- 
ing, and are apt to smoke. The odor of 
the oil when exposed to the air is unpleas- 
ant, bat when burning is not generally often- 
sive ; but many of them are explosive, not 
being properly prepared, and thousands of 
deaths have been caused by their careless 
use. 

Improvements in furniture are gradually 
introduced, and in a nuuiner which renders 
it peculiarly difficult to fix precise dates. It 



may be said in general, that the luiiform 
tendency has been toward lightness and con- 
\enience of form. The artistic beauty of 
the designs has also of late years greatly 
improved. 



CHAPTER III. 

FOOD— COOKING, ETC. 

The general character of the food, drink, 
and cooking of three quarters of a century 
ago, was not very difterent fi-om that of 
to-day. Meats were the same, but less fresh 
meat was eaten ; .=alt beef, salt pork, and 
bacon being the ordinary meat, and the beef 
and pork barrel being almost as universal 
and necessary in the household as the flour 
barrel, 'i'he common vegetables were pota- 
toes, turnips, cabbages, and onions, with a 
few beets and parsnips. Carrots were 
scarcely used at all. At the south, sweet 
potatoes were, as at present, used in place of 
Irish potatoes, and okra, rice, etc., were also 
cultivated as at present. Tomatoes were 
scarcely known at the north, until about 
1830 or 1835, when they were occasionally 
brought from the south, and gradually began 
to be cultivated, under the name of "love- 
apples." The egg-plant, spinach, cauliflower, 
broccoli, and other kitchen-garden plants, 
have also been introduced since the begin- 
ning of the century, from abroad. 

Bread of rye, " rye-and-Indian," or In- 
dian meal alone, and Indian puddings, 
johnny-cake, and the like, were more used 
than at present ; for most grinding was done 
at the small country mills ; transportation 
was slow, difficalt, and costly ; neither the 
great wheat fields of the east, nor the great- 
er ones of the west, were yielding their in- 
crease ; and the great flouring mills that are 
supported by them hail not grown up. 
Every fanner's family, therefore, commonly 
used breadstufl' of its own raising ; and but 
a very small share of that used in the towns 
was brought from any other than the imme- 
diate neighborhood. 

All the labor of preparing the raw mate- 
rial for food was performed in the family. 
All the cofiee had to be burnt and ground, 
spices pulverized, salt powdered, yeast made, 
soap manaf.ii-tured, moat pickled, etc., etc., 
by each housekeeper for herself, or under 
her iinmcdiate supervision. 

Througiiout the extensive western forest 
frontier, a large proportion of the inhabi- 



~!^^""1 ^== 




KITCHEN OF 1770. 




KITCHEN I.\ 167U. 



253 



tants lived in jrroat part upon game ; but 
tins was, from the difficulty of transportation, 
even less accessible in the older settlements 
than now, when it must be brought from 
the distant lakes, and streams, and woods of 
Canada or Maine. 

The use of spirituous and malt liquors was 
universal. It was thought no impropriety 
for distinguished clergymen to own a share 
in a ilistillery ; and the meetings of ministers 
on religious business were made occasions of 
jollity, often even to such an extent that tlie 
reverend companions went home quite tipsy. 
Cider was drank in the country, and cider, 
rum, brandy, or wine in town, at every 
meal. Spirits were expectcil to be offered 
to every visitor, and if not, the host was 
thought mean and stingy. 

Cooking was performed over an open 
wood tire ; a mode in many respects more 
laborious and less convenient than the pres- 
ent use of stoves and ranges ; but which, if 
skilfully conducted, gives the food a flavor 
more perfect and delicate than can be attain- 
ed in any other manner. 

As has been implied, the changes in food 
have tluis been more in the treatment tlian 
in the materials of it. The chief of these 
changes, like those in warming houses, have 
arisen from the introduction of anthracite 
coal into use, which has caused the employ- 
ment of cooking-stoves and ranges, instead 
of the open fire. Nearly four hundred 
patents for cooking-stoves and ranges were 
issued from 1812 to 1847, and a much great- 
er number have been granted since; the 
total number of such patents may safely be 
estimated at more than twelve hundred. 

An early style of cooking-stove, and quite 
a favorite one in its day, Avas the rotary, 
whose top could be swivelled round by a 
crank and cog-wheel geared to a ratchet 
underneath its edge, so as to bring any 
sauce pan or kettle forward to the cook. 
This variety is, however, now nearly obso- 
lete, and innumerable later inventions have 
succeeded, each enjoying a brief reputation, 
usually conferred rather by diligent adver- 
tisement than by any real peculiar merits in 
the stove itself. 

The cooking range may be described as a 
modified stove bricked into a fireplace, in- 
stead of standing out in the room. Its oven, 
instead of being back of the fireplace, as in 
a stove, is above it, or at the sides. Some- 
times there are two, besides a plate warmer, 
and generally they are much more capacious 



than a stove oven. They are now, where- 
ever there arc water works, usually con- 
structed with a water back and boiler of 
cojiper, or galvanized iron. The use of stoves 
and ranges has rendered cooking more con- 
venient, but has, in a great measure, substi- 
tuted the baking of meats in tne oven for 
the ol(l fashion of roasting. They are far 
cheapef and easier in management than an 
open fire ; and in all the older portions of 
the country ai'e necessary, because wood 
could not bo furnished to supply the kitch- 
ens. 



CHAPTER IV. 

DRESS. 

In discussing the changes of costume since 
the revolutionary war, it will be more con- 
venient to divide it with reference to female 
than to male costume. On this principle, 
the period from 1783 or thereabouts may be 
divided into five, thus : — 

1, 1783 to French Revolution, 

2, French Revolution to 1815. 

3, 1815 to 1830, 

4, 1830 to 1845, 

5, 1845 to present time. 

Speaking generally, the changes thus suc- 
ceeding each other have been improvements; 
although almost all of them have been suffi- 
ciently absurd in themselves. These fash- 
ions have always come from England or 
France; since about 1815, almost entirely 
from France, 

1, Period first, 1783 to French Revolu- 
tion, At the close of the Revolution in 1783, 
the costume of gentlemen was in the Eng- 
lish style of the day, viz, : a single-breasted 
low-collared coat of broadcloth, commonly 
of some gay color, often scarlet, bright blue, 
claret color, peach-blossom, with full skirts, 
and ample pocket-flaps, sleeves, and cufi"s ; 
a waistcoat, with long flaps; knee-breeches, 
often also of gay colors, fastened at the outer 
side of the knee with a buckle ; long stock- 
ings, black, white, or colored ; shoes with 
the well-known showy buckles, or boots with 
a broad piece of white or unstained leather 
turned down around the tops, and therefore 
called top-boots ; a ruffled shirt, a lace cra- 
vat, powdered hair, a queue, not unfrcquent- 
ly a wig, and a three-cornered cocked hat. 
A very few aged men still wear or have worn 
this costume within the last ten years, even 
to the queue and the shirt-frill. The cocked 



264 



SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 



hat did not maintain its place so long, 
though quite often to be seen during the 
first quarter of the present century. 

The formal stateliness of this old costume 
suited well the more careful manners and 
stift' politeness of the day ; for even in our re- 
publican country, the distinctions of social 
rank and station prevailed to an extent which 
few people now realize. Old persons now 
living can remember when " Mr." was a title 
considered exclusively proper for the " gen- 
try;" when a "gentleman's" son would have 
been reproved by his father for calling a far- 
mer " Mr." A farmer or mechanic was call- 
ed "goodman," and his wife not "Mrs." or 
"mistress," but "goody." 

Female costume was on the whole, per- 
haps, less strikingly different from that now 
in vogue, except in head-dress. Its other 
most distinguishing characteristics were 
high-heeled shoes, often of bright red or 
other strong colors ; sleeves to the elbows, 
with heavy lace ruflBes ; a tight, close, long 
waist, and a skirt stiffened out by hoops 
very nearly as much as by the " skeleton 
skirts " recently in use. 

The head-dresses, then fashionable, were 
however, most monstrous, and furnished an 
endless theme for satire and jest. The hair 
was greased, and powdered, and "craped," as 
it was called— that is, combed up over artificial 
hail", a mass of tow, or a cushion ; artificial 
fiowers were worked into it, broad ribbons 
hung around it, feathers three feet high 
stuck into it, all sorts of vegetable-looking 
leaves and even fruit and vegetables them- 
selves (imitated) were piled on, and a mass 
constructed which it seemed totally impossi- 
ble for a lady's neck to uphold or endure ; 
which was often, literally and truly, quite as 
large as a bushel basket. A caricature of 
those days represents a lady sitting in a chair 
during her head-dressing, while one barber, 
mounted on a tall pair of steps, is frizzling a 
curl, and another stands off at one side, tak- 
ing the altitude of the edifice he has helped 
to build, with a quadrant. Calashes, whose 
gig-top appearance almost every one may 
remember to have seen, were invented long 
before this time, as early as 1*765, as the 
only contrivance in the nature of a bonnet 
which would cover these vast machines. 
Such head-dresses required great skill in 
preparation and adjustment, and could, of 
course, not be made up by the owner herself. 
It was the business of the barber, and often 
occupied two or three tedious hours. The 



idea of going through such an operation 
daily was out of the question, and these 
"heads," as they were called, were made to 
last sometimes for weeks together. Indeed, 
they were continually corrupting, even so 
that worms bred in them, among the flour 
used for hair-powder and the pomatum ; and 
numerous recipes were in use for poisons to 
prevent vermin from breeding in them. 
Sleeping in the natural posture was, of 
course, impossible ; ladies slept sitting up or 
with a carefully arranged support for the 
neck and head, adapted to the precious mass 
of absurdities that crowned it. 

Period second, French Revolution to 
1815. The French Revolution may be 
called the conclusion of the era of those 
strange fashions. The freedom of that period, 
so licentious in politics, was equally so in 
dress, and in this department, as in the other, 
caused many and great changes both at 
home and abroad. In this country, which 
had before that time followed the English 
fashions almost exclusively, those of France 
now began to take the lead, and the ancient 
caprices of dress to be replaced by others 
more modern, but not less absurd. 

From about 1780, down to about 1800, 
women's skirts grew more and more scanty 
in circumference, until they were "gored," 
and cut so close as to almost impede walk- 
ing. The waist was also carried up some- 
times to one inch below the arm-pit, and the 
neck at the same time cut indecently low. 
The skirt was fitted closely to the figure, no 
wrinkles being admissible, and the fewest 
possible underclothes were worn ; a fashion 
both abominably ugly and very unhealthy. 
These ungainly waists excited much deserved 
ridicule. A well-known song beginning — 

" Shepherds, I have lost my love — 
Have you seen my Anna ?" 

was parodied so as to apply to them, com- 
mencing with — 

" Shepherds, I have lost my waist — 
Have you seen my body ?" 

The variations in bonnets and head- 
dresses during this same period were many 
and wonderful. In 1786, women wore their 
hair frizzed and powdered; and for riding 
costume, a man's jacket with broad lapels, 
and a broad-brimmed hat. In 1789, the 
hair was frizzled out into an enormous bush, 
sometimes with a quantity of dangling curls 
besides ; and bonnets, to hold this aflair, 





1776. 



EVENING DRESS. 1780. 



1780. 



1785. 






EVENING DUKSS. 1795. EVENING DRESS. 1797. 



1800. 



1805. 





IS05. 



1812. 



1812. 



1812. 





1815. 



1818. 



1820. 



1825. 






1828. 



WINTER DRESS. 1833. 



1833. 



1833. 




1833. 



1840. 



1844. 



1850. 




FASHIONS FROM 1850 TO 1860. 



"^i H|— jjiiill 




PLAIN DRKSS OF VARIOUS PERIODS. EXTREME FASHIONS OF 1868-9. 



DRESS. 



257 



were made like an upright bag stiffened out. 
In 1794 a fashion came in of finishing up 
the head-dress with feathers half a yard high. 
About 1795 these styles of expansive head- 
dress disappeared, and small bonnets came 
into use all at once, like a helmet or a straw 
cap, with a vizor, very much like those now 
worn. 

From 1805 to 1810, bare arms were much 
in fashion with women, and a singular mode 
of wearing gloves prevailed. The glove 
was worn with a long armlet attached, 
which was drawn on smoothly up to the 
elbow, and then pushed down again so as to 
lie in irregular wrinkles on the arm, which 
was reckoned remarkably pretty. These 
were termed " rucked gloves." About 1808 
was introduced the "gunboat" style of 
bonnet, which consisted of a moderate-sized 
crown, and a wide expanse of brim, spread- 
ing out around the face, in a form fancied to 
resemble the peculiar shape of a gunboat, 
Avhioh is very wide toward the bows. 

About 1810 appeared the plaid cloaks, 
used both by men and women, which may 
still sometimes be found hung up in an old 
closet ; very wide and long, and for women 
having a great clumsy hood hanging at the 
back of the neck. In 1814 the bonnets all 
at once spread out into an immense crown, 
leaving very little brim. 

Men . costume varied during this time no 
less. The reign of powder and pigtails may 
be said to have ended about 1793, imme- 
diately after the French Revolution ; and 
about the same time the round hat took the 
ph'?e of the three-cornered cocked hat. A 
little later, perhaps about 1800, people began 
to leave otf wearing wigs when they had 
hair of their own. It is hard to comprehend 
how people could submit so long to a cus- 
tom so disfiguring, inconvenient, and cum- 
brous — for eveiy wig-wearer had to have his 
whole head shaved every few days, and 
lived in constant peril of making a fantastic 
appearance if his clumsy and unsafe head- 
gear should be knockt:d off. Yet the mode 
prevailed for two hundred years ; nearly from 
1600 to 18UU. 

One of the early costumes wliich replaced 
the ante-revolutionary fashions for men, and 
which was the height of the ton in 1786, 
consisted of a very broad-brimmed hat ; a 
powdered wig with a pig-tail ; a coat with a 
very short waist, broad lapels, and tremen- 
dous swallow-tails; buckskin breeches, and 
top-boots. 



During this period, and, indeed, down to 
about 1830, gentlemen's necks were often 
swathed with an enormous thickness of 
cravat ; a fashion said to have been intro- 
duced by George IV., while a leader of 
fashion, to hide the scrofulous swelling of 
his neck. Two or three handkerchiefs, 
each a full yard square, were thus worn ; 
giving the neck an appearance which now 
seems excessively dowdy and uncomfortable. 

During the closing years of the last cen- 
tury, knee-breeches began to yield to the 
pantaloon, which came from France ; and 
shoe-buckles disappeared to give place to a 
mere string or ribbon. The pi-ince-regent 
of England, afterward George IV., first led 
this fashion, although he resumed buckles 
at the petition of the buckle-makers, who 
represented that the ruin of their trade 
would starve them. It was ruined, however, 
in spite of them and him, and notwithstand- 
ing that he was the inventor of a shoe-buckle. 

This introduction of the pantaloon and 
the shoe-string, and the disuse of wigs, marks 
the era of the modern costume. The dress- 
coat, however, or a garment much like it, 
was worn at intervals, as early as 1750; 
although it did not definitely occupy the 
place of the old-fashioned broad skirts until 
about 1800. It should be observed that 
" pantaloon" means, in its first strict sense, 
a garment fitting quite tightly to the shape 
of the leg, and buttoning close around the 
ankles, as if a prolongation of the knee- 
breeches. The present pantaloons are in 
strictness " trowsers," having been intro- 
duced as such, and by that name, under the 
auspices of the Duke of Wellington, after 
the battle of Waterloo. 

High-heeled shoes, for women, Avent out 
of use about 1789, and were replaced by 
something very like the present graceful, 
low-quartered shoe. Round toes, for men's 
shoes and boots, came in about the same 
time, and prevailed until about 1804 or 
1 806, when the first beginnings appeared of 
square toes. 

Period third, 1815 to 1830. The last 
period may l)e characterized as that of tight, 
scant dresses. The present one may be de- 
scribed as that of big bonnets, putted hair, 
and leg-of-mutton sleeves, which last, how- 
ever, appeared only toward its end. 

Knee breeches, which had continued to be 
"full dress," were now quite out of date. 
Frock-coats had been introduced by the 
Duke of Wellington and his officers after the 



258 



SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 



peninsular war, together with the boot called 
after him. In 1815 trowsers began to be 
worn, being also introduced under his aus- 
pices ; although the original pantaloon, with 
its tight, close fit and ankle-buttons, main- 
tained itself for ten years or more before 
quite disappearing. In 1815, also, bonnets 
underwent a great revolution, shrinking to 
small dimensions in the crown, and spread- 
ing into a portentous brim. 

Not far from 1820 began what may be 
called the modern era of tight lacing, which 
was adopted as the short waists began to be 
replaced by longer ones, and the recent 
type of female dress, viz., a long waist, 
bulging with a sudden angle into a volumi- 
nous skirt, became established. About 1825 
was adopted a method of wearing the hair 
in great puffs at the sides and on the top of 
the head, dressed, also, with large bows of 
ribbon. To hold this array, an enormous 
bonnet was required, and was used. Skirts 
now began to be a very little fuller ; two or 
three plaits at the waist being all that were 
at first admitted, and more being introduced 
from time to time. About 1828 began the 
" leg-of-mutton sleeves," which grew at once 
to enormous proportions. These ridiculous 
and most inconvenient appendages were 
stuffed out with down, or held out with reed, 
millinet, or whalebone ; but they were con- 
tinually becoming crushed, and were very 
troublesome. They had a certain absurd 
harmony with the big bonnets and puffed 
hair of the day, as well as with the broad- 
shouldered, stiffly-cut capes that were worn 
with them. 

Period fourth, 1830 to 1845. The be- 
ginning of this period is marked by the 
introduction of the costume of the days 
of Jackson — the bell-crowned hat, long, 
swallow-tailed coat, with high collar and 
" bishop" sleeves, and loose trowsers. The 
bishop sleeves were distinguished by rising 
into a ridge where they were set in at 
the shoulder, as do the sleeves of the 
episcopal vestments; this ridge being in 
1830-35, stuffed with cotton to hold them 
up. The big bonnets and pufted hair, 
■wide capes and leg-of-muttons still prevailed. 
Boots and shoes were worn with very broad, 
square toes until about 1840, when narrow 
toes took their place ; and the calash, invent- 
ed almost a hundred years before, was still 
employed to cover the elaborate head-dress. 
The decrease in the size of women's sleeves 
is the chief feature of this period ; the minor 



details of the successive changes of style 
were innumerable, as usual. 

Period fifth, 1845 to 1872. This period, 
also, may be dismissed with brief considera- 
tion. Its first years were marked by the 
introduction of the sack coat, or, as it is 
called in France, the paletot. This easy, 
commodious, and cheap garment is infinitely 
more becoming than a dress-coat, and very- 
much more convenient than either that or a 
frock coat. Though introduced in the pres- 
ent century later than either the dress or 
frock coat, the paletot may be traced to a fa<' 
greater antiquity ; a very similar garment 
having been worn at the courts of France 
and England about the year 1450. At 
about the same time was introduced that 
most preposterous of all feminine fashions, 
the bustle, which was a sort of pad tied 
on behind to make the skirts stand out 
with the desirable degree of fulness. This 
was made of various materials : cloth stuffed 
with bran, hair, cotton, rags, old new^spapers, 
etc., and sometimes of India-rubber, inflated 
with air. The bustle marked the beginning 
of the recent fashion of expanded skirts. As 
this machine did not sufficiently spread out 
these garments, various other means were re- 
sorted to ; the use of an enormous number ot 
skirts — a habit most pernicious to health — 
and skirts fewer iu number, of stiffly-starched 
cloth with cords sown on, or of grass cloth, 
or hair cloth, or stiffened out with many 
cords of new manilla rope or common 
clothes-line, or with whalebone or coils of 
brass wire. All these having been tried 
and failed, the next invention came up, of 
" skeleton-skirts," made of strijjs of iron 
somewhat similar to a watch-spring. These 
were pronounced quite adequate to their 
purpose ; although what the real reason of 
that jiurpose was, it would be impossible to 
say. Why women's skirts should consti- 
tute a great stiff, hollow cone about their 
lower limbs, within which they must wear 
an entire second suit of clothes for warmth 
and protection, was an unanswerable riddle. 
After an absolute reign of sixteen years, the 
" hoop skirt " fell into disgrace, and scantier, 
gored skirts, with pannier, and bouffant 
over-skirts have t;iken its place. 

Another fashion introduced during this 
period was that of wearing soft felt hats, in- 
stead of the round hats, wliicli last are so 
often described as " hard-shells," or " stove- 
pipe" hats; nick-names well applied, but 
which did not succeed in driving out this un- 




WHAT nL'K I.UAXliMuTUKK.s LtAIi.NKD WlllLL VULX 



j'p|Ms*i"iifii»iipipiiN 




WIIAl- OCR SiSTEUS AND DAUGHTERS NOW LEARX. 



SOCIAL AND MKXTAL CULTURK — INTERCOURSE HF.ALTH ART, KTC. 209 



I comfortable and unreasonable fashion. The 
felt hat was not often seen among us until 
the enthusiasm which attended Kossuth's 
visit to the United Slates in 1851 and 
1852 ; after which it was brought out, at 
first with a feather, in close imitation of the 
national hat of the Ilinigarian hero, and 
called a " Kossuth hat." The feather was 
soon left off, but the soft hat being found 
both comfortable and graceful, was retained. 
The mo.st remarkable of the m;iny changes 

t of the last twenty live years in the style of 
woman's dress, and certainly one of the 
most unwise, has been in the mode of dress- 
ing the hair. In 184'), and fur perhaps ten 

^ years later the natural hair was worn almo.-<t 
exclusively, with soma artilieial })uffings, and 
ringlets, perhaps, but generally without 
other foreign additious ; but toward 1860, 
there Ciime in first the fashion of the " wa- 
terfall," a considerable mass of padding, 
over which the natural back hair was spread, 
the ends passed up underneath, and the 
whole confined in a depending and not wholly 
ungraceful net. But tliis soon gave place 
to coils and large masses or wads of false, 
or artificial hair, attached to the posterior 
portion of the crown, frequently almost as 
large as the head itself, forming a hideous 
protuberance on the back of the head, and 
giving the la<ly the appearance of being 
two-headed. This shocking style has been 
iiwdified so as to be a degree less ungrace- 
ful ; but with all its accessories of curls, 
love-locks, and pendants, the chignon is not 
only a violation of all the laws of beauty 
and good taste, but exceedingly injurious to 
health, having increased more than ten-fold 
diseases of the brain, sp ne, and scalp. This 
fashion of wearing the hair necessitated a 
material cli:uige in the bonnet, reducing its 
size, (till it became almost infinitesimal at 
one time) al)olishiiig the cape and perching 
it on the top of the head, and on the fore- 
head, inst(vid of on the back of the head, as 
before. Within the past twelve or fifteen 
years, the round hat in some form (and 
there has been an almost infinite variety), has 
largely superseded the bonnet, not only with 
young ladies, but with those of middle age. 
In reviewing the whole series of fashions 
as thus briefly presented, it will appear that, 
oil the whole, there has been a decided im- 
provement. There are, doubtless, a suffi- 
cient number of not very wise fashions in 
dress now prevailing ; but the preposterous, 
filthy head dress of 17!:^3, the indecent, 
16* 



scanty costume of 1800, the pudding-like 
cravat of the same period, the broad shadow 
of the gunboat bonnet, the balloon-like 
appendage of the leg-of mutton sleeve, have 
each, in turn, been superceded by something, 
on the whole, less foolish : and it may be 
claimed with safety, that at this present 
writing, the fashions, both for men and 
women, are in general bast d upon more 
like common-sense principles, and admit 
more freedom in adaptation, and, therefore, 
greater convenience and grace, than has 
ever before been the case It is matter of con- 
gratulation, however, that tin American taste 
is being developed, and our ladies becoming 
less dependent on fashions from abroad;, 
and every year is yielding a larger liberty to 
our female population, in adoi)ting such 
forms and colors as suit the peculiarities of 
each individual, and this is still more the: 
case with men. 



CHAPTER V. 

SOCIAL AND MENTAL CULTUEE — IN- 
TERCOURSE— HEALTH— ART, ETC. 

Nearly all the increase in comfort and 
hapj)iness which is the jiride of modern 
civilization is traceable to sdeiitific discov- 
ery and to mechanical in\ention. These 
causes have supplied the means of the labor- 
saving machines and processes of the last 
three-quarters of a ecntuiy. The use of 
these machines and processes has brought 
it to pass that men can earn their living by 
the labor of a less pro]iortion of their time 
than formerly. And this power enables 
them to devote a correspondingly larger 
share of effort to the task of gainiiig knowl- 
edge, and of pressing forwaid in the path 
of moral and mental iniprov^nient. The 
amount of mental activity which has been 
devoted to these material jnoccsses is aston- 
ishing. 1 he inventive genius of the Ameri- 
can people, is without parallel in the world. 
More than one lumdred thciu^and patents 
have been issued during the jireseiit century, 
and every year now adds thirteen thousand 
or fourteen thousand to the number. 

The readiest way to sketch ihe general 
progress of society at present songht to be 
described, will be to set forth briefly, in 
chronological succession, the periods oi 
occurrences which have marked the com- 
mencement or maturity of any importanl 
infiuence ujioii the prosperity of the com- 



260 



SOCIAL AND DOMESTIC LIFE. 



munity, without attempting to classify them 
particularly. 

In 1796 was taken out the first American 
patent for a pianoforte, by J. S. McLean, 
of New Jersey. The manufacture of these 
instruments lias become very extensive; the 
larger manufactories sometimes turning out 
thousands a year. So great and important 
have been the improvements, both in these 
and in reed instruments (cabinet organs and 
the like), that in both, we have the highest 
reputation in the world. 

In 1799 Dr. Wat erhouse, of Harvard Uni- 
versity, tirst introduced Jenner's discovery of 
vaccine inoculation ; a measure which has 
substantially freed our community from thcf 
fear, the pain, and the disfigurement of the 
small-pox. This single discovery has had 
uo inconsiderable influence in lengthening 
life, and increasing its happiness by dispelling 
the apprehensions, always felt before, of suf- 
fering and death. 

Tlie importance of regular, rapid, and 
cheap modes of travel and transportation, to 
the general improvement of society in wealth 
and intelligence, is exceedingly great. Dis- 
tance of residence, difficulty of travelling, 
difficulty of carrying, has, through all the 
history of the world, been a chief means of 
keeping nations poor, because thus they 
could not exchange what they had for what 
they had not; and thus, however much they 
possessed of one thing, they were poor. For 
wealth does not consist in mass of posses- 
sions. Not mountains, even of gold, if un- 
exchangeable, are wealth. Wealth is mass 
and variety of possessions together, and 
mnst therefore be produced by exchange, 
that is, travel and transportation. The sea- 
coast nations, commanding water-carriage, 
have in tiie past, been the rich ones ; but 
the introduction of steam railways, dating 
from about IfioO, has made our inland States 
rich. There were in 1»72, over sixty thous- 
and miles of railways in o])eration in the 
United States. 

This also tends to promote exchange of 
mental wealth, by correspondence, visiting, 
etc.; maintjiins a sense of nationality, and 
keeps lip acrpiaintance and good feeling. 
^V'ere it not for case of travel, there would 
but slight hopes of kecj)ing IMaine and 
Georgia in the same republic with Califor- 
nia and Oregon. As it is they will remain. 

In 1811, commenced a movement of a 
very different cliaracter from that of the 
inventor Fulton, but which has exerted an 



influence upon the health and morals of our 
nation, even more important than the bene- 
fits of cheap and rapid locomotion. This 
was the temperance reform. 

The laxity of manners and morals which 
must attend war, had greatly increased the 
use of intoxicating liquor during the Revolu- 
tion, and it continued to spread after the 
peace. Dr. Rush had published his " In- 
quiry into the Effects of Ardent Spirits," ii j 
1 804 ; but no decided movement against' 
their use was made until 1811, when the 
Presbyterian General AssemV>ly appointed 
a committee on the subject. That and other 
ecclesiastical bodies, at various times, passed 
different resolutions and recommendations 
intended to limit the use of liquor, but with 
no very great success. The first total absti- 
nence society was formed in Boston in 1826, 
and during the following ten years, others 
multiplied with great rapidity, liquor-selling 
became disreputable, and the common use 
of ardent spirits was to a very great extent 
broken up. Like most great reforms, how- 
ever, the temperance movement has had its 
seasons of advance and retrogression, and 
while taking the half century together since 
its inaugura^on, it has made wonderful pro- 
gress it has been rather by repeated leaps 
forward, than by a steady march. In 1839, 
the Washingtonian movement, originating 
among intemperate men, Avas a great ad- 
vance ; the attempts at legislation on the 
subject from l^>42 to the present time, have 
done some good, and probably some evil ; 
the absolute necessity for an enlightened 
public opinion to enforce them, not being 
always understood. The great prevalence 
of beer drinking, and the appetite for in- 
toxicating liquors, stimulated by the late 
war, have been serious obstacles to its suc- 
cess. The organization of Temperance 
orders, and the Father Matthew and other 
class movements have done much to make 
liquor selling obnoxious, and tippling dis- 
reputable. 

In 1832 the study of phrenology was in- 
troduced into this country by Spurzheim. 
This svstem, whatever the correctness of its 
doctrines as to indications by the shape and 
size of the head, which are certainly believ- 
ed by many intelligent persons, is at any rate 
entitled to the merit of having furnished a 
new and very clear classification of the men- 
tal faculties, which has become the means of 
a great iniprovement in mental philosophy. 

Two years later, viz., in 1834, the homceo- 



SOCIAL AND MENTAL CULTURE INTERCOURSE HEALTH ART, ETC. 



261 



pathic system of medicine was introduced, 
which hiis since become very extensively be- 
lieved. As in retj;ard to phrenoloiry, it may 
be said of this system, that whctiier all its 
peculiar doctrines are true or false, it has at 
least done good indirectly, by operating to 
reduce the quantity of medicines given by 
the old-fashioned practitioners, and to direct 
their attention more than before to the very 
important points of regimen, ventilatii)n, 
and the other collateral departments of gen- 
eral hygiene. 

About 1840 was introduced into this 
country the greatest improvement in picto- 
rial art since the discovery of painting in 
oils by John Van Eyck in the fifteenth cen- 
tury ; the greatest discovery ever made in 
that department of human knowledge; viz., 
the art of taking pictures by the chemical 
action of light, named, from its discoverer, 
daguerreotyping ; and various modifications 
of which are known as the talbotype, am- 
brotyiie, crystidotype, photograph, etc. These 
methods render it both easy and cheap to 
))rocure an ab-olutely and necessarily per- 
fect rcipresentation of a person or a thing, 
liesides the pleasure of thus being enabled, 
at a trifling cost, to possess a wlio.e gallery 
of perfect portraits of friends, this art has 
already been made useful in securing dia- 
grams of lunar and other astronomical phe- 
nomena, and in taking pictures of buildings, 
land-capes, etc. ; it has been applied to pur- 
poses of scientific and medical discovery ; 
and is now the basis of several processes ol' 
j)rinting, and is largely used in the illustra- 
tion of books, etc., etc. 

Not far from the same time, other sys- 
tems of medical treatment were introduced 
— the " water-cure," or " hydropathic " sys 
tem, which has proved very useful in certain 
classes of diseases ; the " Swedish move- 
ment " cure ; the use of electricity and 
magnetism, and later the " Lifting curt;," 
and "The Oxjgen treatment." 'Ihe first 
named, besides a very sim{)le mode of life, 
consists only in the application of water, at 
various temperatures and in various ways ; 
and it is successfully i^ractised in many es- 
tablishments devoted to it. All these new 
systems, though incomplete as modes of 
treatment for all classes of diseases, have 
exerted a modifying influence upon the 
regular practice. 

In iHlo the principle of cheap postage 
was established in this country by a law of 



Congress, and another step thus taken to- 
ward the entire release from tax or encum- 
brance of the intercourse of one n)ind with 
another. Cheap postage is one of the latest 
signs of a high civilization ; it is one of the 
most promising indications of our own 
future. 

Still one year later was discovered the 
medical process, since termed "anaesthesia,"' 
which consists in rendering persons insensi- 
ble by the inhalation of (HTtain gases (ni- 
trous oxide, ether, or chloroform), thus af- 
fording an ojiportuuity of perf irming sm-gi- 
cal operations quite without the knowledge 
of the patient. The agonies suffered in the 
dentist's chair, or under the hands of the 
surgeon, and the not less tormenting pain 
of many nervous diseases, have thus been 
nmch alleviated, and even entirely r(^lieved. 

In the same year was issued the first pat- 
ent for sewing machines, to Elias Howe, jr. 
It is only necessary to allude to the very 
great saving of time, and strength, and 
health which these machines have efi'ected ; 
their effects are before the eyes of all. They 
are performing in a day the work of weeks, 
and doing very much to relieve women of a 
species of labor which was principally con- 
fined to them, but which consumed in the 
merest petty drudgery, a Mretchedly groat 
proportion of their time, and often ruined 
health and destroyed life. 

An important outgrowth of one of the 
departments of improvement which have 
been described, is the modern hotel. The 
American first-class hotel is an institution 
quite peculiar to this country, and in- 
cludes within itself many of the various 
inventions which have just been cata- 
logued : splendid furniture, elaborate food, 
economical and yet liberal housekeeping, 
labor-saving nuichinery ; in short, an unri- 
valled eomliination of the applications of 
human ingenuity to the improvement of do- 
mestic life. 

To recapitulate : It has thus been 
shown, though briefly and with many im- 
perfections, that the course of our ration 
during the nine'y-seven years since the 
Revolution, has been one of steadi'asf, es- 
sential, and constant improvement in things 
material and immaterial, physical and men- 
tal, practical and ornamental ; in business, 
travel, dress, homes and home conifo ts, 
wealth, morals, intellect — in short, ia every 
department of human activity. 



BOOKS. 



CHAPTER I. 

BOOK TRADE — PUBLISHING — JOBBING- 
RETAILING. 
" Yankee curiosity" is frequently a sub- 
ject of remark with the flippant writers and 
travellers of the old world, and if not always 
urged as a reproach, it is not seldom re- 
ferred to in a deprecating sense by those who 
do not appreciate the immense activity of 
intellect of which it is one manifestation. 
There is no doubt either of the existence of 
the alleged curiosity, or that it sometimes 
exhibits itself in a ludicrous light ; but it 
also manifests itself in the indefatigable in- 
vestigations to which nature and art are con- 
tinually subjected by the ever inquiring 
American mind. There result from those 
investigations, not the dreary metaphysical 
theories that are evolved from German con- 
templation, but those countless inventions, 
improvements, and applications of mechani- 
cal principles that are every year recorded in 
the patent office, and the effects of which are 
seen in every department of industry. The 
religious and political assemblies ; the amu- 
sing, instructive, and scientific addresses of 
the lecture-room ; and the marvellous circu- 
lation of the public press, all reflect that thirst 
for knowledge which is a part of Yankee cu- 
riosity. This, however, gives a still stronger 
evidence of its vigor in the book trade, which, 
in the United States, shows an extent of 
sales that no other country can hope to ap- 
proach. It is based on the universal ability 
of the people to read, and on that " curi- 
osity," or thirst for knowledge, which induces 
them to do so, accompanied by means to 
purchase books. The word "means" compre- 
hends not only greater wealth on the part 
of the purchaser, but reduced prices for the 
books. The existence of 30,000,000 of 
people who can all read, supposes an im- 
mense market for books, that must be sup- 
plied ; and happily busy intellects have writ- 
ten, while the mechanical jirocesses of -pub 
lishing have been developed in a marnne 



to supply the demand. In order to compare 
the book market of the United States with 
that of Europe, we may refer to the census re- 
turns of 1870. That informs us that in that 
year there were 33,586,9H9 white persons in 
he country. Of these, 1 6,000,000 were over 
iO years of age, and of these, 1 ,035,000 could 
leither read nor write, of whom 42.5,n00 
vere aliens. We now turn to France, and 
>ve find that there were 19,000,000 persons 
)ver 20 years of age ; and of these, 5,700,- 
•00 only could read and write, and the re- 
mainder, 13,300,000, could not. In other 
words, there were, in the United States, 
14,650,000 readers of books, against 5,700,- 
000 in France. But there were, also, in the 
United States, 6,977,993 persons between 10 
and 20. Of these, nearly 6,000,000 were in 
school, and, as a consequence, bought and 
read school-books. The ratio of these scholars 
to the whole number who can read and 
write must be the same in France. Hence 
there are, in fact, three times as many read- 
ers in the United States as in France. 

The making of books has kept pace with 
the increasing demand for them. If we 
look back to the library of King Alfred, we 
find that he gave 8 hydes of land for a book 
on cosmography, brought from Italy by 
Bishop Biscop. At such rates, none but a 
king could aftbrd to buy a book ; but, on the 
other hand, there were few, even among 
nobles, who could read if they had them ! 
There was no market, and no manufacture. 
As the art of reading became so far progres- 
sive that the old barons could sign their 
names, instead of punching the seals of in- 
struments with their sword pximmels, some 
little demand for books sprung up, but at 
enormous rates. The state of the book 
market, when literature began to dawn in 
those iron ages, Scott makes old Douglas de- 
scribe in terse phrase : — 

" Thanks be to God ! no son of mine, 
Save Gavvain, e'er could pen a line." 

A modern canvasser would not have gotten 



BOOK TRADE PUBLISHING JOBBING RETAILING. 



203 



■ his name in advance for numbers to be left. 
Louis XL, of France, in 1471, Avas obliged 
to give security and a responsible endurser 
to the I'aris faculty of medicine, in order to 
obtain the loan of the works of an Arabian 
physician. The art of printing, which was 
introduced into England in 1474, had an 
important influence upon the production of 
books, and this, probably, was the cause of 
a greater spread of learning, that reacted upon 
the demand. The Bible was the most com- 
monly used, and these, in noble houses, with 
heavy covers and clasps, were chained to 
shelves and reading-desks. In the sixteenth 
and seventeenth centuries, books were mostly 
folio and quarto. But the dimensions of 
books decreased as they became popularized, 
and this was in proportion to the spread of 
learning among the people. This went on 
gradually, until both the market and supply 
■were considerable, up to the eighteenth cen- 
tury. With the colonies of America — 
among whom both religious and political 
views were based upon general education — 
schools became an institution, and in New 
England the use of them an obligation. 
From that time the market for books in- 
creased with the numbers of the people. 
The first bookseller mentioned is Ilezekiah 
Usher, of Boston, in 1652 ; and his son, 
John Usher, is mentioned by a writer in 
1686, as very rich, and as having "got his 
estate by bookselling." That books, in the 
early part of the century, were by no means 
abundant, or easy to be got at, is evident 
from what Franklin tells us of the difficulties 
he encountered, and the great advantage he 
enjoyed, in having access to the library of a 
merchant. The most of them were imported 
at, no doubt, such expense as confined their 
general use to the better classes. Some 
years after, viz., in 1732, at the time Franklin 
commenced tlie publication of " Poor Rich- 
ard's Almanac," in Philadelphia, a Boston 
bookseller advertised as follows : — 

" Whereas it has been the common method 
of the most curious merchants of Boston to 
procure their books from London, this is to 
acquaint those gentlemen that I, the said Frv, 
will sell all sorts of account books, done after 
the most acute manner, for 20 per cent, 
cheaper than they can have them from 
London. 

" For the pleasing entertainment of the 
polite parts of mankind, I liave printed the 
most beautiful poems of Mr. Stephen Duck, 
the famous Wiltshire poet. It is a full 



demonstration to me that the people of New 
England have a fine taste for good sense and 
polite learning, having already sold 1,200 of 
those poems." 

This was pretty well for Richard Fry, and 
we hope he had not then introduced the art 
of magnifying his sales on paper. That 
there were a number of booksellers then 
doing well, is evident from the fact that Mr. 
John Usher had made his fortune at it 50 
jears before; and in 1724 there was held a 
convention of Boston booksellers, to regulate 
the trade, and raise the price of some de- 
scriptions of books. The publication and 
sale of books increased slowly, until the 
events of the war began to excite the minds 
of the public, and works on those subjects 
were eagerly taken up. The practice was, to 
some extent, to sell books in sheets, to be 
bound as the purchaser might fancy — per- 
haps to be uniform with his library. This 
is now done only where the work is sold in 
numbers by subscription. There was then 
less capital in tlie trade, and few were dis- 
posed to risk the amount required to get 
out large works of a standard character. 
The cost was then more than it now is, and 
the time required much longer to complete 
and dispose of it. There was then formed, 
in 1801, the American company of booksell- 
ers, and these generally subscribed together 
in the publication of a work, to guarantee 
the outlay. There was a sort of union, that 
regulated the principles of publication, and 
those Avho did not conform to these regula- 
tions were repudiated. School-books Avere, 
as a matter of course, as having the largest 
and steadiest market, the first that were ex- 
tensively published. A type of this class of 
books is Webster's Spelling-Book, w liich has 
grown with the country in a remarkable 
manner. In 1783, with the advent of the 
peace, Mr. Noah Webster published his 
American spelling-book. The work became 
a manual for all scliools, and its influence 
has been immense, in giving uniformity to 
the language throughout the whole country. 
The " Yankee schoolmaster," who was raised 
upon that book, has gone forth into every 
section of the Union, spreading the fruits of 
that seed of knowledge, as writes Fitz-Gieeiic 
Ilalleck : — 

" Wanderinp: tlirou^li the southern countries, teaching 
Tiic A, 15, C, from Webster's spelhufj-bouk." 

When it was first published, there were 
3,000,000 pco]»le in the United States; there 



2G4 



BOOKS. 



are now o'.),000,00i), and there have been 
sold 5 t. 000,000 copies of the work, or five 
for every four souls in the Union. The 
spelling-book was enlarged into a dictionary 
in I8116, and immediately Dr. "We'ister went 
on with preparations for a still larger work. 
This occupied him 20 years of unremitting 
research, during which the sales of his spell- 
ing-book supported his family ; in 1828 the 
dii.'tionary appeared in two quarto volumes. 
Twelve years after, viz., in 1840, a new edi 
tion made its appearance, greatly improved ; 
and since Dr. Webster's death, there have 
been two complete revisions of his great 
dictionary, now known as Webster's Un- 
abridged, viz., in 18-47 and 1864, beside sev- 
eral partial revisions. Of this Unabridged 
Dictionary, now a ponderous quarto of 1,840 
pages, about 3.30,OuO copies have been sold, 
and a vastly greater number of the smaller 
dictionaries, of which there are seven of dif- 
ferent sizes. The sales of the spelling-book 
are now about 1,500,(»0!J copies annually. 
These works have exerted a powerful in- 
fluence in giving uniformity and precision 
to the use of the language in all parts of the 
country, and as a re ult, there are fewer 
dialects here than in England. 

The publication of religious works was 
greatly promoted by the societies formed, 
particularly the Americm Bible Society, 
which was formed in 1816; the Bible So- 
ciety of l-'hiladelphia in 18U8; one in Con- 
necticut in 1809 ; and also one in Massachu- 
setts. The American Society in New York 
published, in its first year, 6,410 volumes, 
mostly Bibles and Testaments. In 1871, 
the issues were l,lUi),7'J7, and the whole 
number during 56 years was 28,601,489 vol- 
umes of tlie Bible. A good co]>y of the Bi- 
ble is sold for 60 cents, and a cheaper edition 
at 3o cents ; Testaments as low as 10 cents. 
Contra-t this with the Bible copied in 22 
years by Alcuin for Charlemagne about 800, 
and which was sold in modern times to the 
British Museum for #3,7oO, and the prog- 
ress we have made appears great. 

The American Bible Union was organized 
fn 1850, and it has since issued 259,748,804 
pages ol matter, including Bibles. The pub- 
lications by other societies have been con- 
siderable. 

These societies were not a portion of the 
regular book trade, which continued to be 
mostly under the association, until the ap- 
pearance of the Waverly Novels in 1820 to 



IdoO. 'iiie compentxou to which tlie large 
demand for these works gave rise, broke 
down old arrangements of the trade. The 
publishers thenceforth acted independently. 
At the same time, the supply of desirable 
books from abroad, upon which there was no 
charge for copyright, was much increased ; 
and as all the publishers were upon the same 
footing in respect to those books, the com- 
petition extended only to the mechanical 
process, reducing its cost to the lowest rates. 
The capitals of the publishing houses grad- 
ually increased, but there was still great diffi- 
culty in getting an American book printed. 
Cooper tells us, in the preface to his Pilot, 
that so great was the difficulty he encoun- 
tered in getting a printer to undertake it, that 
he was obliged to write the last page of the 
story first, and have it set up and paged, to 
insure the extent to which the matter would 
run. 

The publication of books is a business 
which ha 5 undergone many changes within 
the past hundred years. There has at all 
times been a limited amount of publishing 
of woiks by American authors, partly be- 
cause it was so much more profitable to re- 
print f )reign works on which there was no 
copyright, and which had already same repu- 
tation ; and partly because in the early 
struggle for national existence among a new 
and not homogeneous people there was not 
the opportunity for that profound culture 
and leisurely study which coulJ alone make 
American works popular and successful to 
the publisher. There were, of course, ex- 
ceptions to this general rule; but for a long 
period, publishers were shy of imdertaking 
a work whose author had not already at- 
tained a reputation abroad. The great bulk 
of publishing was therefore limited to the 
reprinting of foreign works, sometimes with 
introductions, appendices or notes added here, 
but the reputation of the foreiLin author was 
the inducement to the publication. IMatters 
have changed in this respect, and American 
copyright works now largely predominate 
among the publishers' issues. The reprints 
in 1871 were nominally less than one-fifth, 
though really probably about one-fourth of 
the whole number of books published that 
year. 

For the first fifty or sixty years of our 
national existence very few important origi- 
nal works were published except by " sub- 
scription;" the author or publisher issuing 



BOOKS. 



205 



a prospectus describing the work and by so- 
licitation in person or by letter, obtaining 
a suflicient nunibi-r of subscribers to war- 
rant its publication. Usually a subscription 
of from 1.200 to 2.000 was deemed sudicient 
to guaranty the success of the work, and if 
a larger number were printed they were dis- 
posed of at auction or to chance j>urchasers. 
There was, during the period of which we 
are speaking, no stereotyping ; that process 
was then unknown, and all copies were 
printed direct from the types, while in books 
which retpiired to be often reprinted, such 
as Bibles, Prayer and Psalm books, &c., the 
type was kept standing, involving a very 
heavy expense for the publisher. Under 
these circumstances thei-e was little encour- 
agement for the publisher to take any doubt- 
ful risks, aud it is not surprising that so late 
as 1820 the whole number of books manu- 
factured and published in a single year 
throughout the whole country should not 
have 'exceeded the value of $2,500,000, of 
which school books formed nearly one-third. 
Stereotyping, electrotyping, and wood en- 
graving have effected great changes in these 
particulars, in the publishing trade. More 
than $40,000,000 worth of books are now 
issued in a single year. The large publish- 
ing houses employ a " reader " and some- 
times more than one, whose business it is to 
decide upon the merits of manuscripts of 
fered for publication, as well as to examine 
anj' foreign works whit-h it may be thought 
desirable to reprint. These " readers " of 
course reject four or five manuscripts, and 
sometimes more, for every one they recom- 
mend ; sometimes deciding unwisely, as 
when five or six of the ablest of them de- 
clined the manuscript of " Uncle Tom's 
Cabin," in the belief thnt it would not sell ; 
but generally with a judicious regard to the 
interests of their employers. 

If the book is accepted, the terms on 
which it shall be published are next to be 
considered. The })ublishing house may re- 
quire the author to share the risk* with them, 
by furnishing the cost of stereotyping, or 
possibly of manufacturing a first edition, to 
be reimbursed in whole or in part by a per- 
centage on the sales ; — a plan which though 
safe for the publisher, hardly leaves much 
margin of profit for the author ; — they may 
require the author to make over to tlu^m all 
copyright till the cost of stereotyping is 
made up, and thereafter, allow them five, 
seven and one-half or ten per cent, on the 



wholesale or retail price of the book, as 
they can agree ; or if they are confident of 
the success of the work they may j)ay ten 
per cent., or in the case of a poj)ular author 
even more on the selling price of all copies 
sold. There is the greatest jjossible diver- 
sity in these copyright contracts. In some 
instances the publisher jjays a fixed sum, 
and then holds the copyright, taking his 
risk of reimbursement from tlie sales. This 
is generally the method pursued by the sub- 
scription-book publishers, of whom we shall 
say more by and by. If they pay copy- 
right at all, they usually jiay not more than 
from three to five per cent, on the retail price, 
though from the greater extent of tlieir sales, 
this pays the author much better than the 
large percentage of the "regular trade." 
Sometimes, again, a publisher has a work 
prepared, employing several writers and pay- 
ing them^so much a page for their labor. 

Whichever of these plans may be adopted, 
the maiuLscript is haiKledover to the printer 
to be set up. The " composition," or .netting 
up th ; types, is conducted with more or less 
expedition according to tlie character of the 
matter. "When set up, proofs are taken — 
usually called "galley proofs," because they 
are impressions from the matter which is 
set up the width of the page or column, and 
of indefinite length, technically called "gal- 
leys." The proofs are carefully read by 
a professional proof-reader, and usually also 
by the author, after a first revision, and 
when corrected, the matter is made up into 
pages with the requisite running titles and 
paging, and if any large sale is ex])ected, the 
pages are either stereotyped or electrotyped. 
The plates, as these stereotypes or electrotypes 
are called, are next sent to the press-room, 
where paper of the proper size having been 
provided and prepared, the book is printed 
and goes to the binder, who, having folded, 
stitched, covered, stamped, and gilded it, de- 
livers it at the publisher's warehouse, ready 
for market. If it is illustrated, the engra- 
vings are generally made while the work is 
going through the press. They (Considerably 
enhance the cost, but add also to the sala- 
bleni'ss of the work. At the time of put- 
ting the book on the market from one hun- 
dred to three hundred and fifty coj»ies are 
sent to the members of the press, and two 
copies are sent to the Librarian of Congress, 
who is ex-ojfirto the Register of copyrights. 
A considerabh;, often a large, sum is expen- 
ded in advertising the book. Most of the 



2GG 



BOOKS. 



larger publishers have one or more periodi- 
Ciils of their own, of large circulation, in 
which a part of their advertising is done, 
but all pay heavy tribute to the great dai- 
lies and weeklies also. The leading publi- 
cations have what are called " standing or- 
ders " from their correspondents all over the 
Union, for so many copies of every IGmo 
or I'imo book, or a smaller quantity of 
every 8vo volume which they publish, im- 
mediately on its publication. These stand- 
ing orders are, in many cases, sufficient to 
insure them against loss in whatever they 
publish, and thus make all further sales 
largely profitable. A few years ago book* 
were sent out on commission, to be returned 
if not sold, but this was attended with so 
much loss, that it has now been given up ex- 
cept in a few instances, in school books. 

The school book trade, though sometimes 
carried on by publishers who are also in the 
general trade, is becoming more and more 
distinctive in its character every year. The 
method of publication and of putting the 
books on the market differs materially from 
that of miscellaneous books. They are 
usually published in series, of Readers, Arith- 
metics, Geographies, and other text-books, 
the authors receiving but a small percentage 
on each book, but their immense sales mak- 
ing this very profitable. They are intro- 
duced into schools, or approved and ordered 
by Boards of P^ducation, or School Superin- 
tendents, on the urgent solicitation of agents, 
and often a'ter a long and exciting contest, 
and are furnished usually at first at a very 
low price for introduction. The sales are 
enormous, constituting fully one-half the ag- 
gregate sales of books in the United States. 
Another distinct branch of the publishing 
trade is the " subscri|)tion book business." 
Books are not now suljscribed for, to insure 
the publisher against loss in their manufac- 
ture, as they were fifty or sixty years ago, 
but the business of publishing books, to be 
sold only V)y subscription, has attained a 
great magnitude. A book published for sale 
by booksellers, is duly announced, advertised 
and exposed upon the counters of the book- 
sellers, usually has its run of six months or 
so, sells to the extent of 2,000, 3,000, or 
5,000 copies, rarely more, and sometimes not 
over 1,000 or l,.0OO, and then usually be- 
comes an old book not often impiired for. 
The subscription book, on the other hand, 
is not intended for the book stores, and is 



not usually found there. It is generally an 
octavo volume, largely illustrated and selling 
at from two and a half to five or six dollars, 
cheaper books not proving so successful. It 
is well known by those familiar with the 
business, that this is the only way by which 
large and expensively illustrated books can 
be made to pay. The most valuable works 
in this country and England are sold in this 
way ; while the expense of selling is greater, 
the sales are so much larger, that not more 
than a tenth part as much for original out- 
lay has to be added to the price — the pub- 
lisher selling so many more, receives a much 
less percentage. This explains why books 
can be, and are delivered at the homes of 
the purchasers, all over the country, cheaper 
than over the counters of book stores. The 
net profit per volume to subscription pub- 
lishers is very small. On most books a sale 
of 10,000 copies would not pay for the 
trouble and expense, — the cost of engrav- 
ing being enormous — one of 50,000 even 
is but moderate, while sales of a hundred 
thousand or more, which are not imcommon, 
pay very handsomely. \\ e might give many 
instances of enormous sales of these books. 
Goodrich's Universal Traveller, one of the 
earliest of this class, sold largely. The Cot- 
tage Bible in two volumes, over 200,000 
sets. Of the histories of the late war, four 
considerably exceeded one hundred thousand 
copies each — one reaching 175,0o0 — Kitto's 
History of the Bible, 200,000 ; Richardson's 
"Field, Dungeon and Escape," 80,000, 
and his " Beyond the Mississippi," 100,000 ; 
Stephens' " War Between the States, " 
62,000 ; " Life and Death in Rebel Pris- 
ons," 95,000 ; " Smith's Bible Dictionary," 
1 vol.. Royal 8vo, 150,000; Matthew Hale 
Smith's " Sunshine and Shadow," 100,000; 
Raymond's Life of Lincoln, 70,000 ; Rev. 
Dr. March's " Night Scenes of the Bible," 
over 100,000 ; one edition of Fleetwood's 
" Life of Christ," (there are five or six in 
the market) 150,000 ; '* Bunyan's Pilgrim's 
Progress," one edition, 110,000 ; Mark 
Twain's "Innocents Abroad," 100,000; 
"Roughing It," 100,000. 

Subscription book publishers have been 
accused of foisting worthless books upon 
the market, but a fair examination Avill show 
that, in proportion to the number of differ- 
ent books published, the percentage of 
worthless ones is fiir less than of those pub- 
lished by the regular trade ; and very many 



BOOKS. 



267 



of their books are really of the highest 
character. 

The practice of selling subscription books 
by numbers, once greatly in vogue, is now 
confined to a few houses, mostly English. 
Some of these have been very successful, 
but the greater part have abandoned it in 
consequence of the dissatisfaction which it 
occasioned. Tlie numbers will sometimes 
far exceed wliat was announced, to complete 
the work ; they are delivered at uncertain 
times, and when completed the cost is usu- 
ally much greater than the subscriber had 
expected. If they are all preserved they 
have still to be bound at a heavy expense. It 
not unfrequently happens that the subscribers 
drop off so fast from disappointment and 
dissatisfaction that the publisher is compelled 
to abandon the work unfinished. 

There are other subdivisions of the book- 
trade, such as publishers of iMedical books. 
Law books. Military and Scientific books, 
Masonic books, and Religious books, which 
are again divided into Sunday School books, 
and Theological works. 

About I'iSO, a system of semi-annual 
trade sales was inaugurated, for the purpo-e 
of diffusing more widely the publications of 
the publishing houses and bringing buyers 
and sellers into more frequent contact. 
These sales, though greatly modified from 
their first plan, are still maintained, but 
with the abundant facilities for transporta- 
tion and transmitting orders, have mostly 
outlived their usefulness, and many of the 
leading publishers do not now contribute to 
them. The number of publishers in the 
United States is nearly four hundred, but of 
those extensively engaged in the business 
the number is less than one hundred. 

Tlie sale of old or second-hand books is 
also a very extensive branch of business in 
the great cities. It is obvious, that where 
book-buying and book-reading are so preva- 
lent, as is the case among almost all classes 
of the people in the United States, there 
must exist a lar^e number both of j)ublic and 
private libraries, and that these, through 
death, and the continual vicissitudes tiiat 
attend families, are being constantly broken 
up. If every family has a library of greater 
or less magnitude, sooner or later there is a 
sale, and it generally comes to the hammer 
in one or more of the large book auctions 
that are held almost nightly. These auctions 
are attended by the public, but mostly by . 



the second-band booksellers. Of these there 
are numbers in those parts of the city fre- 
quented most by strangers, Tliey are the 
same as the "bookstalls," so familiar a 
feature in the literature of England and the 
countries of western Europe, as they are in 
fact a necessity everywhere. In New York, 
the stall-keeper generally procures, for a 
rent of $50 to $loO per annum, according 
to circumstances, the privilege of putting up 
a set of shelves against the outside of some 
store corner. These shelves shut up at 
night, like a large window, and the shutters 
are fastened by iron bars that have padlocks. 
These shelves contain a small stock, from 
$300 to $400 value, of the most saleable 
books that can be picked up cheap at the 
auctions of books, or of household furniture 
of families breaking up, or purchased of 
needy persons who offer them. It follows 
that the stalls, or stands, become the re- 
ceptacles of all old books, and sometimes 
very rare and valuable ones that have gone 
out of print, and can be found nowhere else. 
A great many valuable foreign books are 
found here, having been disposed of by 
immigrants who become necessitous. A 
large number of books are sold from these 
stiiUs, which also keep much of the current 
new literature. The keepers — some of them 
— soon become possessed of sufficient cap- 
ital to open whole stores ; and there are 
now in New York, and most cities some 
very large stores that have rare collections 
of old books. This business has also ex- 
tended across the water, so that persons of 
more scholarly tastes have, through these 
agencies, access to the reservoirs of old 
books to be found in the cities of Europe. 

In the period from 1848 to 1857, works of 
fiction, both from known and unknown au- 
thors, had an immense sale. Mrs. H. B. 
Stowe led the way in this matter, her "Uncle 
Tom's Cabin " selling to the extent of 
310,000 copies here, and nearly a million and 
a half copies in England ; of " The Lamp- 
lighter," by Miss Cummings, 90,000 copies 
were sold ; of *' Fern Leaves," 70,000 ; 
"Alone," by " Marion Harland," over 50,000 ; 
" Fashion and Famine," by Mrs. Ann S. Ste- 
phens, 30,000 ; " Wide, Wide World," and 
" Queechy," by Miss Warner, nearly 100,000 
each, etc., etc. 

The circulation attained at times by ster- 
ling and standard works is very large, as 
follows : — 



2C3 



BOOKS. 



Irving's Works, 1,100,000 copies. 

Irvine's Sketch Book, 9S,U0l) " 

Longtellow's Hiawatha, 43,000 " 

Hugh Millers Works, 50,000 " 

Grace Aguilar's Works, 157,<'0O " 

New Am. (Jyclopfedia, Dana & Ripley, ll5 vols., 45,000 sets. 

Benton's Thirty Years' View, 2 vols., 8vo, 98,000 copies. 

Kane's Arctic Vo ages, 2 vols., 8vo 65,000 " 

Uarper's Pictorial Bible. 820, 25,000 " 

Goodrich's History of all Nations, $7, 30,000 " 

Dana's Household Book of Poetry, 75,000 " 

Kane's Voyages paid $65,000 copyright. 
The sale of Prescott's Histories was very 
large, giving, it is said, 50 cts. copyright. 
The sales of .>^chool boolis surpasses in quan- 
tity those of all other books. 

We have referred to the very large sales 
of Webster's Spelling-Books and Dictiona- 
ries. The aggregate of these to the close 
of 1871 exceeds sixty millions of volumes. 
For several years before Messrs. Cooledge 
& Brother relinquished the business (in 
1857), their sales of Webster's Speller were 
very nearly one million copies per annum. 
Messrs. Appletoii became the publishers in 
1857, and though for several reasons their 
sales have, a portion of the time, been smaller 
than Cooledge's, yet their aggregate sales, to 
the close of 1871, were 13,31)0,000 cojiies, 
and their present rate of issue is about 
1,030,000 per annum. This house have also 
sold about two and a half millions of Cor- 
nell's Geographies, and more than 1,000,000 
copies of Quackenbos' Series of Text books. 
They are also the publishers of the " xsew 
American," and the "Annual Cyclopaedia" 
of which about 1,200,000 Super Koyal 8vo 
volumes have been sold. They publish five 
or six periodicals, most of them of very large 
circulation, and a Miscellaneous list second 
in extent only to Messrs. Harper &, Bros. 

Messr.-^. E. II. Butler & Co., of Phila- 
delphia, the present publishers of IMitchell's 
Geographies, sell about 350,000 copies an- 
nually, and the aggregate sale in the thirty- 
two years since tlieir first publication has 
been about 9.500,000 copies. Smith's Gram- 
mar, also published by tiiis house, sells at 
the rate of 100,000 cojiies a year. Over 
three millions of copies of it have been sold. 

Messrs. Ivison, Phinney, Blakeman & Co., 
one of the largest houses in the school-book 
trade, sell annually of their Sanders' Read- 
ers and Spellers over 1,000,000 copies, and 
of their other text-books about 4,000,000 
more. The Sanders' Spellers and Readers 
had been sold up to the clo.se of 1871 to the 
extent of more than 26,000,000 of copies ; 
Robinson's Mathematics, 4,000,000 of copies; 
Fasquelle's French, and Woodbury's Ger- 



man Series, 500,000 copies ; Spencerian 
Penmanship, 1,750,000 ; Swintou's History, 
30,000 copies in six months. 

Messrs. A. S. Barnes & Co , also largely 
engaged in the school-book trade, have sold 
in the aggregate of Davies' Mathematical 
works about 7,000,000 volumes, and are now 
selling about 350,000 of them per annum. 
Of Mrs. Willard's Histories their total sale 
has been about 350,000 ; of Clark's Gram- 
mars, 800,000 ; of Parker & Watson's Se- 
ries of Readers (completed 1859) a total of 
about 7,500,000, and an annual sale of about 
700,000 ; Monteith & McNally's Geogra- 
phies, total about 4,750,000 ; annual sales 
about 400,000. Steele's Fourteen Weeks 
Series in Sciences, annual sale of about 
50,000. Of Cleveland's Compendiums and 
Wood's Botanies, each a total sale of about 
150,000. Their Teachers Library has sold 
about 100,000 volumes. Their total annual 
sales of the " National Series " of text books 
are about 4,000,000 volumes. 

Messrs. Sargent, Wilson & Hinkle, of Cin- 
cinnati, the publishers of McGuflfey's Read- 
ers and the Eclectic Educational Series, sell 
annually about 3,500,000 volumes of these 
books. 

Messrs. Sheldon & Co., publish Stoddard's 
Mathematical series of which over 6,000,000 
copies have been sold ; Colton's Geogra- 
phies, over 2,000,000; Comstock's text-books 
in Philosophy, Chemistry, etc., 2,000,000 ; 
Bullion's Series of Grammars and Classics, 
whose sale has been very large, and Loss- 
ing's School Histories, also very popular. 

Messrs. Harper & Brothers have combined 
with the largest list of Miscellaneous pub- 
lications in the country a very extensive issue 
of school text-books, of all kinds, to which 
tliey are constantly making additions. They 
also publish three of the most Avidely-circu- 
lating periodicals in the United States. 
They employ an active capital of about two 
million dollars in stock and machinery, ex- 
pending more than !f 800,000 ])er annum for 
paper alone. They run over fifty power 
presses, thirty-five of them Adams' presses, 
and many of them night and day. They 
have published 2,600 works, in over thirty- 
five hundred volumes, about equally divided 
between original works and reprints. Their 
is-ues of bound books amount to more than 
three and a half millions of volumes per an • 
num. 

Messrs. Lippincott & Co., of Philadelphia, 



BOOKS. 



2C0 



publish a large list of books, but their most 
important business is the jobbing of books 
to booksellers throughout the country. Their 
business in fa\orable years amounts to from 
live to nine millions of dollars. 

INIessrs. Cowperthwait & Co., and INIessrs. 
Claxton, Rcmsen <Sc Ilaffelfinger are also 
leading houses in the sehool-book and job- 
bing trade. 

The sale of music books is very large. 
Some of the smaller music books for schools 
and Sunday-<i_'hools have sold to the extent 
of mo e than two millions of copies, and the 
" Carmina Sacra," a popular collection of 
church music, has had a sale of over 50'',- 
0(»0 copies. Messrs. O. Ditson & Co., of 
Boston, and C. H. Ditson & Co., Bigelow 
&, Rlain, 1\ K. Perkins, F. J. Huntington 
& Co., Philip Phillips, A. S. Barnes & Co., 
Horace Waters, and W. A. Pond & Co, of 
New York, Root & Cady of Chicago, K. H. 
Butler & Co., and Lee &, Walker of Phila- 
delphia are the largest music book publish- 
ers. 

The publication of agricultural books has 
been made a specialty by one or two liouses, 
and one of these, Messrs. Orange .Tudd &, 
Co., who are also the publishers of the agri- 

1820. 

School Books, $75J,000 

Classicil Te.vt-IJooks, 2,50,000 

Theological and Religious, 150,0j0 

Liw, . • 200,000 

Medical loO.OnO 

All others , 1 ,0i h i,000 



cultural pajier of largest circulation, sell 
very large quantities. 

The following table gives the number of 
works of the dilferent classes s[)ecilie(l, pub- 
lished in each year or period mentioned : 



w 

Eiiucational, 

Natural History, Agricul- 
ture and Scieace, 

Rio^raphy, 

Kssaya, I'oetry.anJ Kiction, 
Theology and Religion,. . . . 

History, 

.luvenilo?, 

Music and Fine Arts, 

Voyages and Travels, 

Medicine and Law, 

Drama, 

> lassies, 

Mechanical Sciences, 

Miscellaneous, 



1855. 
brks. 
133 

65 
121 

776 
531 

7ti 

92 

42 

29 

29 

29 

13 

23 



Jan.,18r'G, 
to Mar., 

1S53. 1805. 

Works. Works. 

748 67 



I'M) 
213 

i,';37 

842 
231 
117 

i:,4 
1:7 

JSi 
23 
Gl 

8) 
2<Ji) 

4,88-3 
1,41)2 



189 
150 
4j5 
129 

i,;l 

312 
37 



1) 

42 
IIG 

1,8 '2 
276 



1871. 
Works. 



327 
144 

629 

383 

93 

803 

145 

117 

312 

18 

67 

43 



3,2!i7 
C22 



2,102 
Of which were] Reprints,. . 649 

Mr. S. G. Goodrich (Peter Parley), in his 
'' Recollections of a Life-time," gave a table 
of the value of books manufactured and sold 
at ditferent periods in the United States. 
We add to that table an estimate of the 
values of each class of books sold in 1870, 
based upon the ceaisus reUu-ns for that year : 



2,5.'0,000 



1830. 


1840. 


1850. 


185G. 


1,110,000 


2,OjO,000 


5,500,000 


7,500,000 


350,00) 


550,000 


l,Ol)0,0(JO 


1,>300,000 


210, KX) 


300,000 


500,000 


650,(JOO 


3»0,000 


400,00 > 


7v)0,0(0 


800,000 


200,000 


250,000 


400,1100 


550,000 


1.311,000 


2,000,000 


4,400,000 


4.900,0 .0 


3,5jO,0u0 


5,5u0,00l) 


12,500,0a> 


16,000.000 



1800. 


1870. 


10,1 )0,000 


20,30' i,(»00 


2,000,000 


3,400,000 


1,000,1100 


4,150,0'10 


StOO,IIOO 


1,200,000 


700,000 


950,000 


6,5' 10,000 


10.700,000 



A part of this great increa.se from I860 
to 1870 is due to the enhanced price of 
books since the war, but the greater pait is 
the result of the new impulse given to edu- 
cation and intelligence in the nation. More 
than thirty millions of our people are read- 
ers and requH-e books as regularly as they 
require food. It is computed that nearly 
two millions of the Freedmen have learned 
to read since 1803. The establishment of 
an ellicient public school system in nearly 



21,200,000 40,700,000 

every State in the Union, the organization 
of a National Bureau of education, the Pea- 
body Educational Fund, the establishment 
of schools of all grades for the Freedmen 
and their children, and the libend endow- 
ment of so many instituions of higher edu- 
cation have all tended to make the decade 
from 1860 to 1870 one remarkable for in- 
tellectual progress, and hence of necessity 
an era favorable to the wide diffusion of 
literature. 



PENS. 



The use of some implement for writinof 
was a necessity immediately on the reduc- 
tion of the first language to writing, and 
very various are the instruments which have 
been used for this purpose as, indeed, it was 



necessary they should be, from the great va- 
riety of materials on which the writing was 
to be inscribed. The rock inscriptions found 
in the Caucasus, in Arabia, in Petra, in Egypt, 
iu India, Burnwh, Siam, and China and else- 



270 



PENS. 



where, must have been engraved by pointed 
instruments of the hardest steel ; the inscrip- 
tions on the softer limestones, steatites or 
talcose slates of Assyria and Babylon were 
obviously made with a sharp cutting instru- 
ment, and the arrow-headed writing on their 
bricks was impressed with a punch or die. 
The tablets of lead, copper, or soft brass, 
required a steel pointed stylus. The waxen 
tablets required a stylus of ivory or bone, 
with a flat blade for making necessary era- 
sures, and when parchment and paper was 
used for writing purposes, the sharp pointed 
stick, or later the reed pen was employed to 
inscribe upon these surfaces the matters 
which needed to be written. The Chinese 
used and still use, a Camel's hair pencil 
charged with the semi-liquid paste, known 
as India Ink. for the same purpose. The 
leaves of various species of palm are still 
used in the East for writing, and a pointed 
stick and the juice of some berries serve for 
pen and ink. With the introduction of pa- 
per into P^astern Europe in the seventh and 
eighth centuries, came the employment of 
the gray goose quill which for a thousand 
years and more, was the implement for wri- 
ters and scribblers of all sorts. Yet there 
were serious objections to the quill pen. Its 
point was only hard before it had been long 
soaked in ink, and it was far from being 
permanent. It is said, indeed, that Dr. John 
Gill, the famous commentator and theologian, 
wrote all his thirty or forty ponderous folios 
with one quill pen, and that an old one when 
he began ; but it does not surprise us to be 
told by the same authority, that the printer 
of his works complained that he had been 
made blind by the effort to decipher Dr. 
Gill's manuscript. It resulted from this in- 
equality and rapid deterioration of quill 
pens that when the inventive genius of mod- 
ern nations was aroused, one of the first 
things in which improvement was sought 
was the implement of the ready writer. 
The points required for a good pen were a 
firm, indestructible point, great flexibility, 
non-corrosion of either pen or point, capacity 
to retain a sufficient quantity of ink to pre- 
vent the necessity of constant replenishing, 
and adaptal)ility to the various tastes of wri- 
ters. Metals seemed to possess most of these 
qualities, but the early experiments with 
them proved failures. 

As early as 1803, attempts were made in 
Great Britain to make pens of steel. They 
had but a single slit, and were poor affairs, 



though quite costly. Silver was tried with 
a little better success, but the points were 
too soft and the pen bent very easily. It 
was, moreover, too costly for general use. 
The improvements in steel pens made by 
Mason, Gillott, Perry, Levy, and other man- 
ufacturers between 1820 and 1830 and since 
that time, have rendered these viseful little 
articles of great service to the world. By 
the use of machinery and the division of 
labor, their production was so greatly cheap- 
ened that they were put within the reach of 
all. In Birmingham, England alone, nearly 
1,-500 millions of steel pens are annually 
made. Large numbers are also manufactured 
on the continent of Europe. Many attempts 
have been made to manufacture steel pens 
in the United States, but without great suc- 
cess. One or two manufacturers have, how- 
ever, persevered in spite of all opposition 
and discouragements, and have succeeded in 
producing by the aid of machinery, a good 
pen at a fair price. The Washington Me- 
dallion pen has attained such a reputation 
as to be largely counterfeited in Germany 
and England. But the steel pen, popular 
and cheap as it has been and still is, does 
not answer all the requirements of a good 
pen. It is in its best estate wanting some- 
what in the pliancy of the quill ; it deterior- 
ates rapidly on use, so that the handwriting 
can never be preci.«ely the same on two suc- 
cessive days, and it soon corrodes and be- 
comes entirely worthless. Permanency and 
uniformity in execution are the indispensa- 
ble requisites for a perfect pen. 

It is not surprising then that attention 
should early have been turned to gold as 
most likely to fulfil these requisites. The 
first attempts were like those in steel, fail- 
ures. The first gold pens were made by 
,Iohn Isaac Hawkins, an American residing 
in England, about 1825. Mordan, the Eng- 
lish pencil case maker, also attempted to 
make them not long after, but his pens were 
inelastic and poorer than Hawkins'. The 
use of iridium and osmium points to these 
pens is due to Mr. Hawkins, who soldered 
them on to the points of the pens he made. 
Rev. Mr. Cleveland, an American clergy- 
man, visiting England, purchased of Haw- 
kins his right to make gold pens in 183.3, 
and on his return induced Levi Brown, a 
watchmaker in Detroit, to undertake their 
manufacture. At first Brown met with lit- 
tle success, but in 1840, he removed to New 
York and there the business grew in ira- 



BOOK-BIXDING. 



271 



j)ortaiice. Tlie peus made were, howev'er, 
very uiisatisfaotory, and would be now eoii- 
sidereJ worthli-ssexctipt for old gold. About 
18 44:, Mr. John Iteudell, an employe of 
Brown, commenced makin;; luichiuery for 
the mmufuture of pens, which up to that 
time had been made almost entirely by 
hand. A. G. B.igley a-id a Mr. Barney, Mr. 
Leroy W. Faiivliild, Mr. Spencer and Mr. 
r Dixon, bjth of wli )n were subseqnntly asso- 
ciated with M-. ll;nbU, engaj^ed in the 
manufacture bjtweiiu tliis period and 18,3 •, 
and saon after several otliers commenced 
operations in a sra ill way. Very many in- 
ferior pens we-e thrown upon iha market, 
but those male by the machinery of Rin- 
dell, improved by Fairchild, had a very goad 
reputation. O.ie of Fairchild's improve- 
ments consisted in bedding the iridium points 
in the g)ld instead of soldering them as had 
been done at first. In 18-)9, there were in 
theUnitel S-ites thirteen gold pen factories, 
eight of wliicli were in New York, and one 
in Brooklyn. There were also two in Con 
necticut, one in Massachusetts, and one in 
Cincinnati. Five or six of these made pens 
of very fair quality, th^ rest produced oidy 
inferior good?, and most of them worthless 
trash. 

In ISol, Alexander Morton, who had pre- 
viously been in the employ of Mr. Bagb^y, 
commenced the manufacture of gold pens 
on his own account in New York City, and 
very soon by his inventions for tempering 
and finishing tliem with perfect uniformity, 
took the position which he and his successors 
have maintained to this day. For the first 
time in the history of the manufacture, gold 



pen making was reduced to an exact science. 
Treyiously even the best makers could not 
duplicate a pen. Its exact temper and elas- 
ticity, and its perfect writing qualities were 
beyond their control, and hence the selection 
of a pen was a matter which must be at- 
tended to in person. Mr. Morton brought 
his machinery to such perfection, and was 
so exact and thorough in every (Icpartment 
of the manufacture, that he could at once 
decide by a glance at the handwriting of a 
customer what grade of pen would best suit 
him, and introduced the practice of filling 
individual orders by mail, and in the ten 
years, 1860-1870, forwarded some millions 
of pens in that way. There are now a very 
considerable number of manufocturers of 
gold pens in this country, some of them for- 
merly employes of Mr. Morton, but while 
some of them make very good pens, there is 
no uniformity about their manufacture, and 
most of them lack that permanent temper 
and elasticity which are the result of Mr. 
Morton's processes. This peculiar excellence 
of Morton's pens has been recognized by 
English bankers and clerks, among whom 
these pens have the highest reputation. We 
desire to be understood in regard to this 
matter. The other pen manufacturers may, 
and we presume do, make occasionally, pens 
as good as those made by the Morton pro- 
cess, but they cannot do it uniformly by any 
other method. We have no means of know- 
ing what has been the comparative success 
of the different manufacturers, nor is it a 
matter of any consequence in this work. It 
is only the perfection of the product which 
concerns us. 



BOOK-BINDING. 



CHAPTER I. 

BOOK-BINDING. 

The binding of books is an art probably 
older than the art of book printing itself, 
since there existed a necessity for confinin<i- 
the manuscripts and scrolls that were the 
medium of preserving thought in ancient 
days. Even that was a progress, however ; 
since the slabs of stone that bore the divine 



commandments could not have needed bind- 
ing, nor could the rocks and bricks, on which 
the Babylonians traced their ideas, have well 
been bound. The different inodcs of con- 
veying and preserving ideas, that were adopt- 
ed in different ages and nations, caused re- 
course to be liad to almost all materials ac- 
cording to exigencies, and those were pre- 
served according to the exigency. 

The books of wood, or metal, were bound 



272 



BOOK-BINDING. 



by fastening the sheets of Avhich they were 
composed at the backs by hinges. When 
parchment and paper succeeded, the backs 
of the sheets were sewed together, and the 
covering varied as the arts progressed and 
materials were adopted. Tlie art itself has 
made material progress only of recent years. 
It came to be a separate art only when the 
discovery of printing, by multiplying books, 
made the binding tif tlicm too laborious for 
those who did it when years were spent in 
copying one book. In 778, Alcuin, a monk, 
native of England, commenced to copy the 
Bible, and finished it 800, for the Emperor 
Charlemagne. When twenty-two years was 
required to make one copy, there was not 
much business for the binder, wliose labors 
commenced with those of the printing press. 
Wiiile books were still comparatively dear, 
the binding bore a small proportion to the 
cost. Of late years, the tendency has been 
toward neatness and durability. The req- 
uisites of a well-bound book are solidity, 
elasticity, and elegance. Among the nations 
of Europe, the French take the lead in ar- 
tistic taste, but the English excel in the ex- 
pensive finish of the more costly editions. 
In the United States, machinery is employed, 
more than elsewhere, to attain the desirable 
result at less cost. 

Books are printed upon paper of various 
sizes, which formerly were three, called royal, 
demy, and crown. The book took the size 
indicated by the paper used. The demy 
size was mostly used, and the sheets were 
folded a greater or less number of times. 
Thus, folded once in the middle, gives two 
leaves, or four pages, and is called folio. 
When the sheet is again f^)lded, it gives four 
leaves, or eight pages, and is called (juarto ; 
folded again, the result is eight leaves, or 
sixteen pages, and is octavo. By folding 
into twelve leaves, or twenty-four pages, we 
make a duodecimo ; and if into eighteen 
leaves, or thirty -six pages, it forms octo- 
decimo. Of a size less than this, the books 
are pocket editions. The sizes of books thus 
formed are generally designated as 4to, 8vo, 
12mo, ISmo, i;4mo, 3L!mo, 48mo, etc. The 
size of the printed page corresponds with the 
size of this fold. Thus, the size of this 
volume is royal octavo, being printed on 
paper a size larger than demy, or ordinary 
octavo. Each sheet of paper contains eight 
leaves, or sixteen pages; and there are fifty 
of these sheets in the book. Thus, the type 
is composed of sixtet'n pages in one "form," 



and one side of a double sheet receives the 
impression of those sixteen pages by one 
movement of the press, and then, being re- 
versed, receives an impression on the other 
side from the same type. As the sheets leave 
the press they are hung up to dry, when they 
are placed under a hydraulic press of great 
power. They are then counted out into 
quires of twenty-four sheets each, and sent to 
the binders. There, in the folding room, the 
sheets are folded by girls. The object is to 
fold down the pages, so as to fall one upon 
the other Avlth perfect accuracy, since upon 
this the pi'oper binding of the book depends. 
The whole edition of sheets is folded with 
great rapidity by one girl. Some of these 
will fold 400 in an hour, but the average 
may be 300. A folding machine has lately 
been introduced, by which, it is said, two 
girls will do as much as eighteen by hand. 
Each sheet folded is a signature, and gen- 
erally these are designated by some figure 
at the bottom of the first page of each sheet. 
The folded sheets are laid in piles, in the 
order of these signatures. The " gatherer" 
then, with the right h.and, takes them, one 
by one, and places them in the left, until a 
complete set, or full book, is collected. This 
is performed so rapidly, that it is said an 
active girl will gather 25,000 in a day. 
After tliis, the sheets are "knocked up" 
evenly, and pressed in a hydraulic press; 
but recently, a machine has been introduced, 
by which time is economized. The en- 
graving, on another page, shows the figure 
of that by Iloe & Company, which is the 
favorite for embossing, as well as compress- 
ing. The machine runs slower for smashing. 
The size, 15 by 17, weighs half a ton, and is 
sold at 8400. The book is now examined 
by the collector, in order to detect any error 
of arrangement in the signatures. The books 
then go to the sawing machine, where, being 
])roperly arranged, fine circular saws cut fine 
indentations in the books, to admit as many 
pieces of twine, to each of which each sheet 
is sewed. This is performed by girls, at a 
table appropriated for that purpose. When 
the sewing is complete, the "endpapers" 
are pasted on the book. 

The books next are trimmed by having 
the edges cut by a machine. To efiect this 
Ihey are piled upon a platform, under a large 
knife, which, being worked by a crank, 
descends, like a guillotine, cutting a large 
number at once. The figure of the trimming 
machine is given on another page. The 



PROCESS OF BOOK-BIXDIXG. 




LAYING OX GOLD LEAF. 




EMBOSSING I'KESS. 




. \wiNi; -M \riiiM-;, 




IIMMIIM. KdU.M. 



BOOK-BINDING. 



273 



knife used in this machine is 21 inches long, 
and has a sliort, vibratory movement ; thus 
combining the advantages of the long sta- 
tionary knife with those of the ordinary 
plough. The work to be trimmed is phiced 
against the adjustable guide on the bed of 
the press, in front of the knife, and is com- 
pressed by the wheel and screw. The table, 
on which the press stands, is adjustable in 
all directions, and is also self-acting, so that, 
when thrown into gear, it rises to the re- 
quired height and disengages itself — thus 
preventing injury to the knife — and then 
drops down to its original position. Three 
sides of the work can be successively pre- 
sented to the action of the knife, by simply 
turning the press to the quarter and half- 
turn stops. The machine can be worked 
either by hand or steam power, and can be 
easily adjusted to cut any size from 3 to 18 
inches long, and from 1 to 15 inches wide. 
This machine has been in operation some 
twenty-five years. The backs now receive 
a coat of glue, to impart firmness. They 
are then, bv the "backing machine" — which 
is an improvement of some ten years' stand- 
ing — rounded on the back, and receive a 
groove for the boards. Tliey are then cut 
on the ends. A piece of muslin, nearly as 
long as the book, and extending an inch 
over the sides, is then pasted on, and the 
book is ready to receive the boards, or cases. 
These consist of mill-boards cut a little larger 
than the book, and cloth cut large enough 
to turn over aU. The cloth is glued, and 
one board is placed upon it. The corners 
of the cloth are then cut, and the edges 
turned down and rolled smooth. It is then 
dressed, when it goes into the hands of the 
stamper. The stamping, or embossing, is 
done in a press, from dies previously pre- 
pared. When the sides arc lettei'ed, the 
letters are engraved in metal, and impressed 
upon the cloth. Gold leaf is placed upon 
the cloth, and the heat of the stamp causes 
it to adhere in the desired places. The 
book is then pasted on the sides, placed in 
the covers, and pressed, when it is a book 
bound in cloth. The stamping, or, as it is 
sometimes called, the arming press, will per- 
form, almost instantaneously, what formei'ly 
would have required a week. This has been 
brought about by a combination of the arts 
— designing, die-sinking, and application of 
machinery. When a particular design is 
required ujaon a book, the artist draws it 



upon paper ; it is then cut in brass, or steel, 
and this block in tlie press embosses a great 
many covers at a blow. 

With books bound in leather, the process 
is not so expeditious. In order to insure 
solidity, the books Avere formerly beaten 
upon a stone with a broad-faced hammer. 
They are now squeezed between steel rollers, 
to eifect the same object. The engraving 
of the rolling machine, in another column, 
will give a good idea of the one that is now 
used by bookbinders, in place of screw and 
hydraulic presses, for pressing folded sheets. 
The work is placed on an iron table in front 
of the rollers, between plates of ii-on, paste- 
board, or leather, and passed through the 
machine as often as necessary. The adjust- 
ing screws are geared together, so that the 
rollers are always parallel to each other. It 
is strongly geared, and may be run by either 
hand or steam power. The sewing is done 
in a more substantial manner. The volume, 
placed in the laying press, has its back ham- 
mered very carefully, so as to spread tlie 
sheets on each side of the boards without 
wrinkling the inside, and the work proceeds 
until it leaves the hands of the finisher a 
perfect model. It opens easily, and lies flat 
out without any strain, and its hinges are 
without crease. 

In gilding the edges of a book, they are 
scraped smooth and covered with a prepara- 
tion of red chalk, as a groundwork for the 
size, Avhich is formed of one egg to half a 
pint of water. The gold is laid on the size, 
and then burnished with a bloodstone. 

The embellishment of book covers is called 
"tooling," and, when plain, blind tooling. 
By this latter, sometimes glossy black in- 
dentations are made to contrast tastefully 
with the rich color of the morocco. This 
is performed by wetting the morocco, and 
applying the tool in a heated state. 

There has been a method invented by 
which the leaves of a book are fixed together 
with India-rubber instead of sewing. The 
sheets being cut evenly, receive a solution 
of the material ; as each leaf is held only 
by the rubber, the book is made to lie very 
flat. This docs not appear to have come 
into much favor. The fashion of imitating 
antique styles of binding has led to the use 
of wood instead of pasteboard, in some fancy 
styles of costly books. It is only a passing 
caprice, since wood cannot sup})lant the 
pasteboard. 



WRITERS OF AMERICA. 



CHAPTER I. 

THEOLOGIANS— STATESMEN— NOVELISTS 
—HISTORIANS. 

With the settlement of the colonies, there 
were necessarily but few attempts at literary 
productions. The Pilgrim Fathers brought 
with them many books from their native 
land, but these were mostly bibles and theo- 
logical works. They were persons whose 
minds bore the strongest religious impres- 
sions. In them the sentiment of piety ap- 
proached austerity ; and they were not un- 
frequently charged with ftiuaticism. The 
time they had to devote to literature was 
wholly absorbed in the perusal of those de- 
votional works that sustained and illustrated 
that faith which they liad made their rule 
of action under all circumstances, and which 
they lived up to with all the sternness of 
their bold and decided characters. They 
had encountered the perils of the wilder- 
ness to rear free homes ; and they were de- 
termined, also, to make them temples to the 
Lord. It is not to be inferred that literature 
and the finer arts of life were, even at that 
remote period, foreign to the people of the 
country. The founders of all the colonies 
were among the most elegant writers and 
accomplished scholars of the time. Such 
men as Raleigh, Baltimore, Penn, Ogle- 
thorpe, Smith, Winthrop, and a crowd of 
others, Avuuld have been ornaments to the 
most brilliant circles of any country ; with 
them and their successors, education and re- 
ligion were the foremost objects of atten- 
tion. But among men so busy Avith the 
work in hand, as to declare " that the laws 
of God should govern until they had time to 
make others," much general literature could 
not find cultivation. Theological works were 
the staple, and these were produced with an 
independence of thought and a vigor of ar- 
gument which enchained their adherents and 
astonished the opponents they had left at 
home. As the laws of God were the models 



of government, so were the inspired writers 
the only guides for the faith of that stead- 
fast people. Those original and strong 
thinkers were also powerful and prolific 
writers; and some of them won the first 
place, in the estimation of the learned, as 
theologians. Cotton Mather, who had no 
equal as a scholar, wrote 382 works, of one 
of which, " Essays to do Good," Dr. Frank- 
lin remarks : " It perhaps gave me a tone of 
thinking that had an influence upon some 
of the principal future events of my life." 
Thus was one of the most powerful minds 
of the eighteenth, or, indeed, any century, 
impressed with the vigorous style of a colo- 
nial author. The simple missionary, Jona- 
than Edwards, a large portion of whose use- 
ful life was spent on the confines of civiliza- 
tion, produced works which, according to 
Dr. Chalmers, a century afterward, stamped 
him as " the greatest of theologians," and 
called from Sir James Mackintosh the remark 
that, " in power of subtle reasoning he was, 
perhaps, unmatched among men." Mr. Ed- 
wards succeeded to the presidency of the 
New Jersey College, and died in 1758. He 
was the type of the theological age of the 
country. His work became the standard 
of orthodoxy for enlightened Protestant Eu- 
rope. That voice, w hich was indeed " one 
crying in the wilderness," became the text- 
book of the most learned divines of the old 
world. 

As the colonies advanced in wealth and 
nunibers, more diversified views naturally 
sprung up, but the books of amusement and 
instruction Avere mostly imported from Eng- 
land. There was little in the rude struggle 
with the wilderness to foster an independent 
school of literature, which flourished much 
better in England, where existed all the re- 
sources of libraries and information. That 
bold and strong natural intellects, like that 
of Dr. Franklin, should grow up, was almost 
a necessity of the vigorous race that pro- 
duced him ; and his works were at once ap- 



THEOLOGIANS — STATESMEN — NOVELISTS — HISTORIANS. 



275 



preciatcd, because tliey reflected the genius 
of the poople. The clear, strong sense of 
" Poor Richard "struck a responsive chord 
in every heart, and there was little reason to 
be surprised that the almanac reached a cir- 
culation of 10,000 in 1735. The school 
system that had been early established by 
the colonists, laid a broad foundation for 
future literature. To make all classes of 
persons readers, was to create a demand for 
books that must sooner or later be gratified; 
and writers and speakers were sure to find 
the avenue to the public mind when the oc- 
casion offered. This preseiite<l itself when 
the disputes w ith the mother country began 
to take a serious foi'm. Those events stirred 
the depths of feeling in all ranks and classes, 
and an army of orators rose into public 
view at once, to fan the flames of discontent 
into a conflagration that ultimately consumed 
the loyalty of the colonists, and left their 
original sturdy independence of character to 
assert itself in political separation. The 
eloquence of Otis, of John Adams, Patrick 
Ilenry, Samuel Adams, of Pinckney, of Rut- 
ledge, and others, live for us only in the ef- 
fects they produced, and of which our insti- 
tutions are the manifestation. Unhappily 
there were then no means of reporting by 
which those soul-stirring speeches could be 
preserved, and we have but a few sketches 
of Fisher Ames and Patrick Ilenry. While 
those illustrious men roused the nation with 
their voices, numbers aided with their pens ; 
among these, Thomas Paine's pamphlet, 
" Common Sense," and his series of tracts 
entitled "The Crisis," produced a marvellous 
effect. The papers in themselves, at the pres- 
ent day, give no evidence of great ability, but 
they were fitted to the epoch with extraordi- 
nary aptness ; and tradition assures us that 
each, on its appearance, produced a furore 
difficult to conceive. The epoch was one of 
intense excitement ; and those papers held up 
clearly the dark side of kingcraft to a people 
in whose minds republicanism was making 
rapid growth. The pamphlets and papers 
that circulated at that period were, some of 
them, marked with great learning and power. 
The correspondence then carried on among 
public men, and which has since been col- 
lected and given to the public, surj)asses in 
learning, yxijitical sagacity, grace of diction, 
vigor of thought, and power of expression, 
any thing of the kind that ever before ap- 
peared in any country. We, that read those 
papers by the light of seventy years of sub- 
17 * 



sequent history, are better able to appreciate 
the extraordinary ability they evince. The 
letters of Franklin, Jefferson, Jay, Adams, 
Washington, Morris, and others, will, while 
the nation lasts, be preserved as models of 
literary excellence. The publication of the 
" Federalist " was an era in political wiiting ; 
the work was the joint production of Alexan- 
der Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay. 
The papers were signed " I'ublius," and their 
object was to urge the importance of union 
in the adoption of the constitution. The 
statesmen of Europe regarded the work with 
admiration ; and the Edinhurgh Review re- 
marked : " It exhibits an extent and pre- 
cision of information, a profundity of re- 
search, and an acuteness of understanding 
which would have done honor to the most 
illustrious statesmen of ancient or modern 
times." In his work on " Democracy in 
America," De Tocqueville remarks that " it 
ought to be familiar to the statesmen of 
every nation." If the reader of the present 
day is struck with the clear-sighted sagacity 
that the papers evince, how nmch greater 
is our admiration when we reflect that those- 
statesmen were reared in our colonial state,, 
without any of that experience which has 
shed its light upon us. The wisdom they 
displayed was the result of their own pro- 
found deliberation. The writings were an 
interchange of views between a race of in- 
tellectual giants who were giving birth to a 
nation. The works of James Madison com- 
prise fifteen octavo volumes of 600 pages 
each, and are distinguished for sound- 
ness of reasoning, and great sagacity. The 
report of Hamilton, as secretary of the 
treasury, on banks and manufactures, was of 
great celebrity ; and, as far as it described 
the existing state of affairs, was valuable. 
It is to be borne in mind that he was one of 
a race of Titans who were organizing a na- 
tion of a kind that never before existed ; and 
if the views he advocated have not been 
justified by the experience that the nation 
has wrought out in the last seventy years, it 
is not surprising ; nor can his great wisdom 
be taxed on that account any more than* the 
vast ability of I'atrick Ilenry be questioned 
because he opposed the new constitution. 
The writings of Jefferson, the statesman and 
patriot, were of a nature more durable and 
statesmaidike than the eft'usions of Hamilton, 
which were more the products of a subor- 
dinate executive oflicer than a directing 
head. The pen which wrote the Declaration 



276 



WRITERS OF AMERICA. 



of Independence and the state papers, wrote, 
also, the " Notes on Virginia," the autobiog- 
raphy, correspondence, and Anas, included 
in the four volumes of his works published 
after his death by Mr. Randolph. Of the same 
age as these eminent statesmen, was John Mar- 
shall, the celebrated chief justice of the Uni- 
ted States. Judge Marshall appeared as an 
author in 1805, when he published his "Life 
of Washington." The introductory volume, 
being a " History of the Colonies planted by 
the English on the Continent of North Amer- 
ica," was published separately in 1824. In 
1832 an abridgment of his " Life of Wash- 
ington" appeared. Mr. Marshall occupied the 
posts of minister to France and secretary of 
state, and his state papers commanded admi- 
ration as of the very highest order. His ap- 
pointment and career as chief justice seems to 
have been one of those special providences 
that have so often manifested themselves on 
behalf of the United States as a nation. The 
powers of the Supreme Court are such as 
were never before, by any people, confided to 
a judicial tribunal. It deteniiines, without 
appeal, its own jurisdiction, and that of the 
legislature and the executive. It is not mere- 
ly the highest court in the whole country, but 
the constitution of the country is in its hands. 
This tribunal was to decide upon every 
question that should arise under the new 
constitution, in relation to all the rights and 
powers of each department of government, 
and also those of all the states. A want of 
ability or of integrity upon the part of the 
court, possessed of such power, might, 
by vicious interpretation, have destroyed 
the whole fair fabric that had been raised 
with so jnuch care and wisdom. This im- 
mense responsibility devolved upon John 
Marshall, and nobly did his great capacity 
and sterling integrity meet the occasion. 
During thirty-four years, that great man de- 
cided every question that arose ; and, so to 
speak, fairly launched the constitution and 
government upon the stream of time. 

Cotemporary with Judge Marshall, upon 
the supreme bench, was Joseph Story, who, 
born in Massachusetts in 1779, was appoint- 
ed in 1811, and held the office until his death 
in 1845, a period of thirty-four years, during 
twenty-four of Avhich he was associated with 
Judge ^larshall, and displayed talents worthy 
of such a colleague. His literary writings 
were published in 1835, comprising .sketches 
of eminent men, and other papers. 

The eminent statesmen who have adorned 



the literature of their country, have been 
many. Henry Wheaton, Esq., Avho was born 
in 17 85, served the country in many capacities. 
He published the most complete Avork on 
international law, in 1835. John Quincy 
Adams, one of the most remarkable men oil 
the country, was born in Braintree, July, 
1 767, while his great-grandfather, who was 
born in the reign of Charles II, yet lived. Mr. 
Adams graduated at Harvard College in 
1787, just 100 years after the birth of his 
great-grandfather. He chose the law as a 
profession, and began to write for publication 
over the signature of " Publieola." He re- 
plied to some portions of Paine's "Rights of 
Man." Washington appointed him minister 
to the Netherlands from 1794 to 1801. He 
had, also, appointed him to Portugal, but 
while on his way, his destination was 
changed to Berlin by the accession of his 
father to the presidential chair. While in 
Berlin, Mr. Adams became acquainted with 
German literature. A series of letters at 
this period to his brother in I'hiladelphia, 
was afterward published. They were of 
high interest. Subsequently, he was a 
member of the Massachusetts legislature, 
and professor of oratory at Harvard Univer- 
sity. He was appointed minister to Russia 
by President Madison. From thence he was 
transferred to Ghent, to negotiate peace in 
company with Messrs. Bayard, Clay, and 
Gallatin. Afterward, he was appointed min- 
ister to St. James. He was eight years in 
the cabinet, and four years president. In 
1831, he was sent to the House of Repre- 
sentatives, where he remained imtil his 
death, in 1848. He filled more of the high 
offices of government, than any other man 
in the country. The largest portion of his 
published writings consists of orations and 
miscellaneous discourses of a high charac- 
ter. He gave to the world some essays 
upon Shakspeare ; also, translations from 
the German of Wieland. In 1832 he pub- 
lished " Dcrmot Mac Morrogh ; A Tale of the 
Twelfth Century," with some shorter poems, 
chiefly lyrical. All the writings of Mr. 
Adams display the most mature scholarship, 
but the statesman seems to have overshad- 
owed the man, since it is probable that from 
a less eminent person they would have been 
more highly considered. 

William Wirt was born in 1772, at Bla- 
densburg, Maryland, and became a lawyer 
in 1792, in which profession he was emi- 
nently successful. In 1802, he wrote the 



THEOLOGIANS STATESMEN NOVELISTS HISTORIANS. 



277 



"Britisli Spy," which had a great success. In 
1807, he earned a great reputation by his 
famous speech in favor of Blenncrhasset. 
lie produced many works before lie gave to 
the Avorkl his extraordinary "Life of I'atrick 
Henry" in 1817. That work has an endur- 
ing reputation. 

Daniel Webster, that type of New England 
intellect, was born in 1782, in the same year 
Avith Audubon, the great American naturalist, 
lie was a New t^nglaud farmer's son, of 
Salisbury, N. H., and pursued learning with 
the indomital>le energy of liis race — teach- 
ing school as he himself acquired learning — 
forcing his way to notice, until he acquired 
a world-wide reputation. His earliest liter- 
ary performance was in 1806, when 24 years 
of age, being a Fourth of July oration. He 
was a contributor to the North American 
Hcvicu', and his orations on different occa- 
sions were eagerly read in every section of 
the country. No speeches were more 
fraught with wisdom and eloquence, or had 
greater influence upon the public mind, 
since, being models of their kind, many are 
daily read in the public schools. He is so 
thoroughly xVmerican, and so in earnest in his 
expositions of the constitution, that his name, 
to use his own expression, must ever have an 
" odor of nationality." He speaks always to 
the understanding, and always with effect. 

In the same year in which Webster 
was born. South Carolina gave birth to her 
great statesman, John C. Calhoun. He was 
born in Abbeville district, in March, 1782. 
He graduated at Yale College in 1804, 
and began the study of law, in which he 
attained great success. In 1809, he was 
elected to the state legislature. In 1811, 
he was elected to the House of Representa- 
tives, immediately taking a foremost post, 
until 1817, when he became secretary of 
war under Mr. Madison, and so continued 
eight years. Subsequently, he was twice 
elected vice-president, the last time in 
1828. He soon resigned for the Senate, 
where he continued until his death, in 1850. 
Mr. Calhoun Avas one of the most extraor- 
dinary men of the country, and one of 
those whose works will live far into poster- 
ity. His eloquence was of a most refined 
cast, and distinguished for its compact rea- 
soning. He was possessed of that quick- 
ness of perception and subtleness of argu- 
ment, which made Jonathan Edwards the 
first of theologians. His works have been 
collected since his death, in six volumes. 



Cotemporary with Webster and Calhoun, 
were the great orators. Clay, ]\Iangum, and 
others, whose speeches belong to the stand- 
ard literature of the country, but who ha\e 
not contributed to it directly by writing. 
Thomas II. Benton, the great Missouri sena- 
tor, was born in North Carolina in 1782, and 
pursued the study of law. In his " Thirty 
Years' View" of the American governuicut, 
he has contributed a work of great value to 
the historical literature of the country. That 
great work is not only a faithful record of 
the political history of the country for the 
thirty years, but the clear Saxon style in 
which it is composed, gives it a charm sel- 
dom found in similar productions. When 
this work was completed, he commenced the 
task of condensing, reviewing, and abridg- 
ing the debates of Congress, from the foun- 
dation of the government, which he li\ed to 
bring down to the compromise measures of 
1850. With a strong intellect and bold 
character, Col. Benton was well calculated to 
dominate in the western states. In Jlis- 
souri, at one time, his power was boundless. 

Tlie brothers Everett have deservedly oc- 
cupied a high place among the literary men 
of the countiy. The elder, Alexander, was 
born in 1790, in Boston. He graduated at 
Harvard in 1 806, and pursued the jirofes- 
sion of law, but filled many offices of public 
trust, being minister to China at the time of 
his death, in 1847. During his life, his at- 
tention was never long diverted from litera- 
ture, and his writings were numerous in the 
North Ainericon Hcvirw, of which his 
brother, Edward, was editor, and elsewhere. 
Edward Everett was born in 1794, and grad- 
uated at Harvard in 1811. He began the 
study of law, but adopted theology, and at 
19 years was called to the Brattle street 
church, Boston, to fill the vacancy caused 
by the death of Mr. Buckminster, one of 
the most remarka])lo orators of modern 
times. He was soon after elected (h'cek 
professor at Harvard. While filling that 
office, he published some school books. 
In 1820, he became the editor of the 
North American Review, to which he large- 
ly contributed. He became member of 
Congress, and afterward governor of Massa- 
chusetts. He was minister to Englan<l, 
president of Harvard College, and I'nited 
States senator. Like his brother of opposite 
politics, he has enjoyed a succession of offices, 
and was, in 1860, the cr.ndidate of a large 
party for the vice-presidency. When Lord 



278 



WRITERS OF AMERICA. 



Macaulay, from over occupation, declined to 
add a memoir of AVashington to the many 
brilliant biographical papers he prepared for 
the new edition of the "Encyclopa'diaBrit- 
annica," he suggested to the publishers of 
that work, that his friend Edward Everett 
would be the very man to execute the task. 
He prepared the paper, which was subse- 
quently republished here. Mr. Everett died 
in 186"), in the height of his fame. 

John P. Kennedy, was born in Balti- 
more, Md., Oct. 25, 1795. lie pursued the 
law as a profession ; was a member of Con- 
gress 1837-'J, and 1841-5, and Secretary of 
the Navy in 1852. He was one of the most 
genial and popular of writers. He was, 
perhaps, best known as the author of the 
" Memoirs of William Wirt," published in 
18-19, a " Defence of the AVhigs " 1844, 
''Horse Shoe Robinson," 1835, and " Rob of 
the Bowl," published in 1838, fullowed by 
"Annals of Qiiodlibet," in 1810. His de- 
lineations of nature were truthful, and his 
character-drawing marked with great del- 
icacy and freedom. He died in 1870. 

Hugh S. Legare was born in South Cor- 
olina, in 1797, and graduated at the South 
Carolina College, following the law as a pro- 
fession. He died in 1843. In 1820, he was 
sent to the state legislature, and subsequently 
was appointed attorney-general of the state, 
was made charge d'atfaires at Brussels, and 
chosen to Congress in 1836. His contribu- 
tions to the New York Revieiv gave him a 
high literary reputation. In 1846, a collec- 
tion of his writings was published in 
Charleston, establishing his high reputation 
as of the first class of intellects. 

There are a number of others of our states- 
men and political men, who have contribu- 
ted by their writings to the literary capital 
of the country, but we have here selected 
only the most prominent of them. 

Of those Avho have made literature a pro- 
fession, Charles B. Brown seems to have 
been the first. He was born in 1771, in 
Philadelphia, and was of very early promise. 
In New York, in 1793, he was introduced to 
a literary society, which numbered among its 
members James Kent, afterward chancellor. 
Dr. Mitchill, Dunlap, Bleecker, and others. 
In 1797, he published a work on the rights 
of women, which then found less favor than 
son)e writers on the same subject have more 
recently experienced. lie published, subse- 
quently, a number of works that met with 
uo very great success. 



A year younger than Daniel Webster 
was Washington Irving, born in N. Y. City, 
April 3, 1783, died in 1 859. Mr. Irving, " the 
prince of story tellers," is the admitted leader 
of American literature. His first publications 
were in 1802, over the signature of Jona- 
than Oldstyle, Gent., in the Mornhuj Chroni- 
cle, of which his brother was editor. In 
1806, in connection with James K. Paul- 
ding, he began writing "Salmagundi." This 
created a great sensation. It attacked, with 
anmsing ridicule, the ignorance, presumption, 
and vulgarity of the British tourists, and sat- 
irized pretenders at home and abroad in a 
most effective manner. lie soon after com- 
menced the "History of New York, by Died- 
rich Knickerbocker," which must ever remain 
the finest monument of his genius. He 
was connected in business with his brothers, 
and upon the failure of the firm, he was, 
happily for the public, forced to depend up- 
on literature for support. Ilis next produc- 
tion was the " Sketch Book," published in 
New York and in London, in 1819-20. Its 
success was great at home and abroad, fully 
establishing the fame of the author. From 
that date, his works appeared at pretty reg- 
ular intervals, although he was absent from 
the country seventeen years, up to 1832. 
Soon after, he purchased the old mansion of 
the Van Tassels, on the Hudson, near 
"Sleepy Hollow." He then resumed his lit- 
erary labors until his appointment as minis- 
ter to Spain, in 1841. He returned, in 
1846, to his residence, and remained there 
until his death, still continuing, at times, to 
add to the list of his productions, the last 
of which was the "Life of Washington," 
which has had a sale probably as extensive 
as all the rest of his works, and the aggre- 
gate of which will exceed half a million vol- 
umes. It may be said that he has been one 
of the most successful of authors. 

James K. Paulding, the colleague of Ir- 
ving in " Salmagundi," was four years his sen- 
ior, having been born in 1779, in the town 
of Pawling, on the Hudson. Notwith- 
standing the great success of " Salmagundi," 
the publisher refused to remunerate the 
writers, and it was brought suddenly to a 
close. In 1813, Mr. Paulding published a 
satirical poem, called " The Lay of a Scotch 
Fiddle," and in 1816 the most humorous of 
his satires, "The Diverting History of John 
Bull and Brother Jonathan," was published. 
His works were numerous up to 1831, when 
the "Dutchman's Fireside" appeared, meeting 



THEOLOGIANS — STATESMEN NOVELISTS — HISTORIANS. 



279 



Avitli great success. It is called the best of 
his novels. This was followed by " "West- 
ward, Ilo!" in whirli his characters are 
drawn with j^reat truth and vigor. Ilis 
sketch (*f the Kentucky hunter in his com- 
edy of "Ninirod "Wildfire," has met with great 
popularity. In 1837, Mr. Paulding became 
secretary of the navy under Mr. Van Bu- 
ren. On his retirement he resumed his pen, 
and some of his later productions were con- 
tributions to the Deviocratic Revicu'. All 
the works of !Mr. Paulding would probably 
reach some thirty volumes. His Avorks 
evince great descriptive power, skill in char- 
acter drawing, with much humor and a 
strong natural feeling running through them 
aU. Mr. Paulding died in 18G0. 

James Fenimore Cooper, the most widely 
known of American novelists, as well as the 
most distinguished, was born in 1789, at 
Burlington, New Jersey. He became a stu- 
dent in Yale College in 1802, in the same 
year with John C. Calhoun. On quitting 
college, in 1805, he entered the navy as a 
midshipman, for which position his daring 
and open-hearted nature seemed to fit him. 
He was very popular in the service, and a 
most promising officer, when, after six years 
of sea service — more than many old officers 
see in a whole life-time — he resigned, mar- 
ried, and finally retired to Cooperstown, N. Y. 
His first work was " Precaution," which had 
success, but not that eminent success that 
attended his subsequent works, llis next 
Avork was the " f^pv." This was decidedly 
the best historical romance ever written by 
an American, and its success was immense. 
Notwithstanding many attempts of the press 
to speak slightly of it, it created a furore in 
the public mind, and imparted an immense 
impulse to literature. The work was imme- 
diately republished in all parts of Europe, 
and it demonstrated the fact that everybody 
read "an American book," since even in 
England it rivalled the Waverley Novels in 
popularity. A few years before his death, 
Mr. Cooper received information that it had 
been translated into the Persian, Arabic, 
and some other oriental languages. ^Vhen 
it is remembered that this story was a life 
picture of the struggle for independence, the 
effect of such a wide-spread circulation 
among readers under every form of govern- 
ment, may be estimated. 

In 182;i, the "Pioneers" made its appear- 
ance, commencing that series of Leather- 
stocking tales that will last while the coun- 



try stands. The next work of Mr. Coop- 
er's opened the series of his sea tales, in 
which he stands confessedly without a 
rival. Those two lines of ronuuice, the 
American forest and the domain of Nep- 
tune, Mr. Cooper made peculiarly his own, 
and they both illustrate scenes peculiarly 
American. The "Pilot," it is said, originated 
in the fact that the " Pirate" of Sir Walter 
Scott having recently appeared, the conver- 
sation turned upon the faultiness of the sea 
delineation, and Cooper undertook to write 
a sea story in which the seamanship could 
not be criticised, and the " Pilot" resulted. 
Its success was unbounded. The next work 
was "Lionel Lincoln," a story of the war dur- 
ing the British occupation of Boston, and 
although it was quite equal to the "Spy," yet 
for some reason did not take with the public 
m so great a degree. In 182G, the "Last of 
the Mohicans" was produced, and it had a 
success from the first, greater than any novel 
had ever before had. It was purely orig- 
inal, introducing for the first time upon the 
field of literature, that race of men of whom 
but a few years will leave only the tradi- 
tion. In the " Pilot,"a real seaman for the 
first time came upon the stage, in the person 
of Paul Jones ; and in the "Mohicans," the 
red man made his dthnt in the person of 
Uncas. Mr. Cooper immediately took rank 
in England as one of the first romance writ- 
ers of this, or any other age. Like the 
"Spy," it was reproduced in every language of 
Europe. The "Prairie" appeared next, while 
Mr. Cooper was in Europe, and it carried 
the reputation of the writer to a still higher 
point. That work was succeeded by the 
" Red Kover," which was followed bv the 
" Water Witch." The labors of ^Ir. Coop- 
er continued up to 1839, when his " History 
of the American Navy" appeared. It had a 
great and deserved success. It is a noble 
monument to the gallant service which, 
springing from the bosom of a newly formed 
coujiry, successfully grap])led with the ty- 
raM* of the seas, and demonstrated to the 
world that a new power had arisen to re- 
dress the balance of the old upon the ocean. 
There followed this work a continuation of 
the Leather-stocking tales, in the "Pathfinder" 
an<l the "Deerslayer," both of which sustained 
the high reputation of the series. The com- 
plete works of Mr. C'ooper embrace a great 
number of volumes. Not all of them are 
of the high grade of those which have given 
him a world-wide character. There is not 



280 



WIllTKRS OF AMEiaCA. 



a language in Europe into which they were 
not all translated as soon as they appeared 
in London. The readers of books in South 
America, in India, throughout England, and 
in Russia, are familiar with the name of 
Cooper, even where America is only known 
as his home. 

.lames Hall, born in Philadelphia in 1 793, 
died in 18G8, made many contributions to 
our literature. He was tiic author of " Le- 
gends of the West," '"A History of the In- 
aian Tribes of North America," " The Wil- 
derness and the War Path." 

The years 1804 to 1810 were prolific in 
the production of authors. Not less than ten 
distinguished writers were born in those 
years : Theodore S. Fay, Geo. IJ. Cheever, 
Chas. F. HotFinan, C. M. Kirkland, Nathan- 
iel Hawthorne, N. P. Willis, H. W. Long- 
fellow, W. G. Simms, Joseph C. Neal, S. M. 
Fuller. Mr. Fay was educated for the 
New York bar, and published first, in 1832, 
*' Dreams and Keveries of a Quiet Man," 
and essays written for the New York Mirror, 
in \Vhich he was associated with AVillis, Gen. 
Morris, Rufus Dawes, etc. His novel of 
"• Norm in Leslie" is better known. In 1837 
he proilu -ed the "Countess Ida;" subse- 
queudy, " Hoboken ; a Tale of New York." 
He has spent most of his life abroad, under 
government appointments. 

Riiv. Dr. Cheever was born in Maine, in 
1807, educated at Bowdoin College and An- 
dover Semin iry. He preached first at Sa- 
lem and afterwards in N. Y. City, but has 
for some time past been without a charge. 
He travelled extensively in Europe and has 
written several interesting vo'umes of trav- 
els, and a number of religious and controver- 
sial works. He now resides in New Jersey. 

Charles F. HotFman was born in New 
Y'^ork in 180i), graduated at Columbia Col 
lege, and commenced the study of the law. 
He began his literary career as editor of the 
N w York American, associated with Charles 
King, Escj., since president of Col\ ibia 
College; and in 1835 published "A ^ 'in 
ter in the West," which met wiih great suc- 
cess both in London and in New York. This 
was followed by " Wild vScenes in the For- 
est and the Prairie," and subsequently by 
•' Greyslaer." Mr. Hoffman established the 
Knickerbocker Magazine in 1838. In 1843 
he published "The Vigil of Faith ;" and 
later several songs and essays. Since 1850 
he has been hopelessly insane. 



Natiianiel Hawthorne w.;S Lorn i.i bii.ciii 
in 1804, and graduated from Bowdoin Col- 
lege, in Maine, in lt>25. In 1837 he pub- 
lished " Twice; Told Tales," that had jirevi- 
ously appeared in periodicals, in book form. 
In 184G a new collection of his magazine 
papers was published, under the name of 
" Mosses from an Old Manse." He had a 
custom-house appointment in Boston, under 
Collector Bancroft, and subsequently joined 
the Fourierite community at " Brook Farm," 
Roxbury. Afterward appeared "The Scar- 
let Letter," and "The House of Seven Ga- 
bles," which confirmed his rank as one of 
the great masters of romance. He was one 
of the most distinguished of American wri- 
ters ; and was appointed consul to Liverpool 
by President Pie;ce. In 1851 he published 
" True Stories from History and Biog aphy ;" 
in 1852, "The Snow Image;" in 1853, 
"The Wonder Book;" in 185'J, "The Mar- 
ble Faun." Mr. Hawthorne died in 1864. 

N. P. Willis was a native of Portland, but 
went early to Boston ; whence he entered 
Yale College, where he graduated in 1827. 
He was then engaged by S. G. Goodrich, 
since known as " Peter Parley," to edit 
'•The Token." About the year 1830 he 
was appointed attache of the American le- 
gation at Paris ; in which capacity he col- 
lected the materials for " Pencillings by the 
NVay," which was first published in the New 
York Mirror. In 1831) he was one of the 
editors of the Corsair, which was short- 
lived. In 1840 an illustrated edition of his 
poems was publi-hed, and his " Letters from 
under a Bridge." In 1843, in connection 
with Geo. P. Morris, he revived the Mirror, 
which lived but a few months. In 184G, the 
two authors commenced the Home Journal, 
which continues to flourish. Mr. Willis had 
a wide rejjutation at home and abroad. 
While he won the admiration of the most 
refined taste, he enjoyed a wide popularity 
as a writer of light literature. Mr. Willis 
died in 18G7 at Idlewild on the Hudson. 

Henry W. Longfellow was born in Port- 
land, Me., in 1807. He graduated at Bow- 
doin College, and commenced the study of the 
law; but abandoned it for a profes.-orship of 
modern languages in Bowdoin College, 
which olliee he assumed in 1820. He 
speedily won the reputation of a most grace- 
ful poet, as well as of an accomplished 
scholar. In 1836 he was called to the pro- 
fessorship of modern languages at Harvard 



THEOLOGIANS STATESMEX NOVELISTS HISTORIANS. 



2S1 



College, wliioh bo has since retained. In 
1833 he pul)lishe(l liis translation from the 
Spanish of the Capias of Don Jorge Man- 
riqne. In 1835 he published " Outre-Mer," 
and in 1838 "Hyperion; a Romance," fol- 
lowed by other poems. The merits of Mr. 
Longfellow as a poet are of the highest order. 
Some of his poems have had an unusual suc- 
cess. "Hiawatha" circulated to the extent 
of 45,000 copies, and the "Courtship of 
Miles Standish " acquired great popularity. 

W. Gilmore Simms was a native of 
Charleston, South Carolina, and became a 
lawyer in that city. When only eighteen 
years of age, he published his first poems, 
lyrical and others. These were followed, 
successively, by '• Early Lays," " The Vision 
of Cortes,"" and, in 1830, by the " Tri color." 
In 1832, while traveling at the north, he 
wrote, at Ilingham, Mass., his chief poem — 
'•Atalantis ; a Story of the Sea." This was 
followed by the stories of "Martin Faber;" 
" Guy Rivers : A Tale of Georgia ;" " The 
Yemassee : A Tale of South Carolina ; " and 
these by a great number of poems, historical 
romances, revolutionary stories, histories and 
biographies, essays, and reviews — making in 
all lifty volumes. Mr. Simms died iu 1870. 

John Grecnlcaf Whittier was born in 
Haverhill, Mass., in 1807. His parents were 
members of the Society of Friends. Re- 
ceiving a very thorough English education, 
at the age of twenty-two he became editor 
of the American Manufacturer at Boston, 
and in 1830 succeeded George D. Prentice 
in the Heio Emfland Weekly Heview at 
Hartford. In 1831 he published " Legends 
of New England," and iu 1 833 returned to 
his early home, where he published an essay 
entitled "Justice and Expediency; or, Sla- 
very Considered with a View to its Aboli- 
tion." In 1836, he became secretary of the 
American Anti-Slavery Society, and soon 
after removed to Philadelphia, where he 
eilited for some years the Pennsylvania 
Freeman. Meantime he had been writing 
some stirring poems, afterward collected 
under the title of " Voices of Freedom." In 
1840 he settled at Amcsbury, Mass., and 
since that time has been a prolific writer 
of hoth prose and poetry. His poems have 
been colhcted in several forms, and entitle 
him to rank among the foremost of American 
poets. 

Joseph C. Neal, born in Greenland, N. IT., 
in 1807, became editor of the Philadelphia 
Pennsyloanian in ISol, and, after ten years' 



concction with it, started the Saturday Ga- 
zette. He is best known bv a humorous vol- 
ume — " Charcoal Sketches." He died in 
1848. 

Fitz-Greene Ilalleck (born 1785) be- 
longed rather to the i)eriod of Cooper and 
Irving than to the more recent class of po- 
etical writers. He wrote sparingly, but his 
"Marco Bozzaris" and "Alnwick Castle" 
will live. He died in 18G7. 

Edgar A. Poe (born 1811 — died 1849) 
was both a poet and prose writer, a man of 
extraordinaiy genius. 

James Russell Lowell (born 1810), editor 
of Atlantic Monthly, and later of the North 
American Review, is, perhaj)s, the ablest of 
our younger jioets, ])ossessing both humor 
and pathos. His " l>iglow Papers" and his 
more serious poems have great m;jrit. His 
jjrose writings are admirable. 

Oliver Wendell Holmes (born 180'J) has 
distinguished himself both in j)rose and po- 
etry. His humor is both delicate and pun- 
gent, and his pathetic pieces full of feeling. 
J. G. Saxe (born 181G) has a high rei)Uta- 
tion as a humorous poet. Alfred B. Street 
(born 1811) is a poet of great descriptive 
power. Of the younger literary men. Bay- 
ard Taylor, as traveler, poet, and novelist, 
occupies a very high rank. R. 11. Stoddard, 
T. B. Aldri(h,J. R.Thompson, G. II. Boker, 
T. B. Reed, W. Allen Butler, and E. C. 
Stedman, have all won a high reputation. 

Among the clerical contributors to general 
literature. Rev. Timothy Dwight, D. 1). (born 
1753 — died 1817), deserves the first place. 
In 1774 he published an epic poem, "The 
Conquest of Canaan," which was followed by 
numerous lyric pieces. After his accession 
to the presidency of Yale College in 1795, 
he published " Travels in New England and 
New York " in four volumes, the best picture 
of the life and manners of those times now 
extant, 

Timothy Flint was born in Reading, ^Lass., 
in 1780, and graduated at Harvard College, 
after which he was settled as a minister, but 
soon departed for the west, where he col- 
lected the materials for his " Recollections 
of Ten Years in the Valley of the Missis- 
sippi," which were published in 182G. The 
success of this work was so great as to in- 
duce him to make literature his profession. 
His next work was " Francis Berrian ; or, The 
Mexican Patriot," followed by the " Geo- 
graphy and History of the Mississippi," in 
1827. These works wcro followed by many 



282 



WRITERS OF AMERICA. 



others, and, in 1833, Mr. Flint had charo;c of 
the Knirkcrhocker Mw/azine for some time, 
after which he removed to Cincinnati, and 
continued there until his death, 

William E. Channinpj was born at New- 
port in 17 SO. lie graduated at Harvard in 
1798, Judge Story being liis classmate. 
On leaving college, he became a tutor in a 
family of Virginia. lie was ordained pastor 
of the Federal street church in Boston in 
1803, and lie continued there until his death 
in 1842. His earliest publications were 
theological, particularly one on the " Uni- 
tarian Belief," in 1819, which excited great 
attention. In 1823, he published an essay 
upon " National Literature." This was fol- 
lowed by " Remarks on the Life and Charac- 
ter of Napoleon Bonaparte." The address de- 
livered i:i Boston, on "Self-Culture," in 1838, 
was regarded as one of his best efforts. His 
later works were religious and reformatory. 

Jo-;eph S. Buekminster was born at Ports- 
mouth In 1781, graduated from Harvard Col- 
lege in 1800, became pastor of Brattle street 
church in 1805, and died in 1812, with a 
great reputation for eloquence and literary 
genius, though he had published but little. 

Andrews Norton was born in Ilingham in 
1786, graduated from Harvard in 180-4, and 
was pi-of ssor of sacred literature, &c. there 
from 1813 to 1830. He wrote many valu- 
able works, chiefly controversial, and some 
poems of great beauty. 

Horace Bushnell was born in Connecticut 
in 1802, and graduated at Yale College in 
1824. At one time, he was literary editor 
of the N. Y. Journal of Commerce ; from 
1833 to 18")G he was pastor of a Congrega- 
tional church in Hartford. His first theologi- 
cal work was published in 1847, and he has 
since wiitten largely on various toi»ics. 

Orville Dewey was born in 1 79 1, in Shef- 
field, Mass, He graduated at Williams Col- 
lege in 1814. He supplied the pulpit of Dr. 
Channing when that gentleman went to P^ng 
land. After being settled t< n years in New 
Bedford, he became pastor of the Church ol 
the Messiah in New York, but from 1858 to 
18f)2 was again pastor iu l5oston. He has 
published many volumes at diflerent times on 
various subj<'ets ; among others, in 1836, 
"The Old World and the New;" in 1838, 
" Mond Views of Commerce, Society, and 
Politics." He has been one of the most 
popular pulpit orators that the country has 
produced. 

Among the other clergymen who have at- 



tained a high reputation for scholarship and 
literary ability, we should name George 
Bush, a critical Hebrew scholar, Moses Stu- 
art, Thomas J. Conant, Horatio B. Ilackett, 
all eminent Hebraists ; Bennet Tyler, Na- 
thaniel W. Taylor, Lyman Beecher, Edward 
Beecher, Mark Hopkins, Leonard Woods, 
George P. Fisher, theological writers; T. C. 
Upham, J. Torrey, W. G. T. Shedd, Leonard 
Bacon, Henry B. Smith, Bishop C. P. 
Mcllvaine, W. B. Sprague, J. W. and J, A. 
Alexander, G. W. Bethune, S. II. Tyng, Francis 
Waylaud and Barnas Sears as religious 
and ecclesiastical writers ; and Nehemiah 
and Wm. Adams, Richard S. Storrs, Jr , 
Geo. B. Cheever, Joseph P. Thompson, R. 
D. Hitchcock, H. W. Beecher, A. L. Stone, 
Bishops Potter, Burgess, Coxe, Doane, and 
Kip, Richard Fuller, William R. Williams, 
William Hague, Robert Turnbull, Abel 
Stevens, J. P. Durbin, W. P. Strickland, 
Daniel Curry, Stephen Olin, and James Floy, 
as eloquent preachers and writers. The two 
Roman Catholic Archbishops Kenrick, Arch- 
bishop Hughes, Archbishop Spalding, and 
Bishops Fitzpatrick and Kosecians, have all 
acquired distinction as preachers and authors, 
mostly on controversial topics, 

Francis AVayland was born in the city of 
New York in 1796, and graduated at Union 
College. He was first settled over a Baptist 
church in Boston, but ultimately succeeded 
to the presidency of Brown University, in 
1827, His publications have been numerous 
on moral and scientific subjects, and he has 
contributed largely to the periodical press. 
The editions of some of his works have been 
very large : 12,000 were sold of his " Politi- 
cal Economy," and nearly 30,000 of his 
" Moral Science," 

William Ware was born in 1797, at Hing- 
ham, Mass., and graduated at Harvard in 
1816. He was soon after settled in a Uni- 
tarian church in New York, He commenced, 
in the Knickerbocker Ma^fazine, in 1836, a 
series of papers, which were subsequently 
published together, as "Zenobia; or, The 
Fall of Palmyra : an historical romance." 
Then followed " Probus ; or, Rome in the 
Third Century;" "Julian; or, Scenes in 
Judea," appeared in 1841. Tlie writings of 
Mr, Ware are graceful, pure, and brilliant in 
style. 

Herman Hooker was born in Poultney, Vt., 
in ] 807. Graduating at Middlebury College, 
he took orders in the Episcopal church, but, 
Iraving the pulpit soon, removed to Phila- 




(JtMLEilEX AUTUOKS. 




LADY AUXHUKii. 



THEOLOGIANS STATESMEN NOVELISTS — HISTORIANS. 



283 



phia, where he died in 1865. His books which 
were all religious, possessed great merit. 

Ore>tes A. Brownson was born in Ver- 
mont in 1H0:>. The e;irly life of Mr. Brown- 
son was obscure. He seems, however, to 
have been very erratic, but published several 
works, until, in 1838, he began the Boston 
Quarterly, and in 1840 published a meta- 
physical novel called " Charles Ellwood." 
He continued to write for many reviews, 
until, in 1844, he begui Brownsons Qita-terly 
Revieio, after having united with the lidnian 
Catholic church. Since then he has achieved 
a high reputation as a controversialist. 

John James Audubon, the great ornitholo- 
gist, was born in Louisiana in 1782. He 
was educated in l*aris. On his return he 
immediately commenced the series of draw- 
ings, which, with the lapse of time, grew 
into " The Birds of America" — of which 
work Baron Cuvier remarked : " If ever it be 
completed it will have to be confessed that, in 
magnificence of execution, the old world is 
surpassed by the new." After encountering 
many vexations and disappointments, he suc- 
ceeded in publishing, in 1830, his first vol- 
ume, containing one hundred plates, repre- 
senting ninety-nine species of birds ; every 
figure of the size and color of life. The 
kings of France and England headed the 
subscription list ; he was made a member of 
the Royal Societies of London, Edinburgh, 
and Paris, and the scientific world were en- 
thusiastic in his praise. The second volume 
was published in 1834; in 1840 the fourth 
and last volume was completed. The whole 
comprises 435 plates, containing 1065 figures, 
from the bird of AVashington to the hum- 
ming-bird, of the size of life, and a great va- 
riety of land and marine views, carefully 
drawn and colored from nature. He had 
spent half a century in completing this mar- 
vellous work, and well might he say : " I 
look up with gratitude to the Supreme 
Being, and feel that I am happy." 

After the completion of this work, he be- 
gan the "Quadrupeds of America," which 
was also a marvellous production. His draw- 
ings exhibit a perfection never before at- 
tempted, and his pen is scarcely inferior to 
his pencil. AVhcn I'ufion had completed 
the ornithological portion of his history, he 
supposed that he had described all the birds in 
the world, and remarked that the list "would 
admit of no material augmentation !" Yet his 
list comprised but one-sixteenth of those now 
known to exist. Mr. Audubon died in 1851. 



Gulian C. Yerplanck was born in 1785, in 
New York — a true representative of the 
Knickerbocker race. He graduated at Co- 
lumbia College, and soon after obtained ad- 
mission to the bar. \i\ 1818 he came before 
the public in a literary character, in an ad- 
dress before the New York Historical So- 
ciety. He became professor of the evi- 
dences of Christianity in the theological 
seminary of the Episcopal church, in 1820. 
Subsequently Mr. A'crplanck, in connection 
with Mr. 15ryant aiul others, formed a liter- 
ary confederacy, contributing to the literary 
magazines and daily journals. At this time 
was published "The Talisman," mostly by 
Mr. Verplanck. He was a member of Con- 
gress 1825-1833. Li 1844-4G, he edited 
a fine edition of Shakspeare, which has a 
high reputation. Mr. Verplanck died in 1870. 

Henry R. Schoolcraft was born in 1793, 
near Albany, and was early distinguished for 
his literary and scientific acquirements. He 
contributed largely to the preservation of 
the history of the red races of the continent, 
and was a high authority on all that concerns 
their customs. He died in 18G4. 

In the range of history, American writers 
have won the foremost position among his- 
torians of the present century ; and Euro- 
pean critics admit the high reputation of 
American histories. 

Jared Sparks (1789-18GG) was born in 
Willington, Conn., graduated from Harvard 
University in 1815, was a tutor there and 
subsequently pastor of a Unitarian Church 
in Baltimore, editor and proprietor of the 
North American Review, 1823 to 1830, 
and already distinguished for his historical 
researches. He published a life of " John 
Ledyard, the American Traveler," " Diplo- 
matic Correspondence of the American Rev- 
olution" in 1 2 volumes, "Life of Gouverneur 
Morris," " Life and Writings of AVashington" 
in twelve 8vo volumes, the " Comj It te Works 
of Franklin " in ten volumes, two series of 
Historical Biographies, one in ten, the other 
in fiftC' n volumes, and " Corres|>ond« nee of 
the American Revolution " in four volumes. 
He was very careful, painstaking, and accu- 
rate as a historian. He was President of 
Harvard University from 1849 to 1853. 

John Gorham Palfrey, born in Boston in 
179G a classmate of Sparks, graduating from 
Harvard University in 1815, wms a Unita- 
rian minister in Boston from 1818 to 1830. 
professor of sacred literature in Harvard, 
from 1831 to 1839 ; editor North American 



284 



WRITEKS OP AMEKICA. 



Review 1835 to 1843; Secretary of State 
of Massachusetts 1844 to 1848; member of 
Congress 1847 to 1849; lecturer at the 
Lowell Institute 1839 and 1842 ; and be- 
side numerous theological and reformntory 
works published " Progress of the Slave 
Power," " History of lirattle St. Church," 
" Life of Col. William Palfrey," " Review 
of Lord Mahon's History of England," and 
a "History of New England to 1C88," in 
three volumes, a work of great research. 

William H. Prescott was born in 1796, at 
Salem. He was grand on of Gen. Prescott 
who command d at Bunker Hill. In 1814, 
lie graduated at Harvard College, and entered 
upon the study of the law. At college, by 
an accident, one of his eyes was destroyed, 
and the sight of the other much injured. 
He possessed a handsome income, $12,000 
per annum, and devoted himself to the 
study of the languages and literature of 
Europe, and contributed largely to the 
North American Review, Ten years thus 
passed in a kind of preparation for historical 
studies ; ten years more were occupied with 
investigation, and then his " Ferdinand and 
Isabella " was published. The materials for 
this had been sent him by Alexander Everett, 
when minister to Spain. The work of acquir- 
ing the contents of books and writing with 
out the use of eyes was a severe lal)or, but 
was overcome by ingenuity and patience. 
The work was everywhere hailed with enthu- 
siasm. Mr. Prescott was made a member of 
the Royal Academy of Madrid, and its rich 
collections, wi h those of the archives of 
Seville, ]ilaced at his disposal, and every res- 
ervoir of Spanish history laid open to him. 
The " History of the Conquest of Mexico " 
followed, and was succeeded by the " Con- 
quest of Peru," and the " History of Philip 
the Second," wiiich added to the fame of Mr. 
Prescott. He died in 1859. 

George Bancroft was born in Worcester in 
1800, and graduated at Harvard in 1817. 
He commenced the study of divinity, but 
adopted literature as a profession. In 1834, 
he j)ul)lislied the first volume of the " History 
of Colonization in the United States. He 
was subsequently appointed collector of Bos- 
ton, and in 1844 secretary of the navy, 
which post he resigned to represent this 
country at the Court of St. James. During 
more than thirty years his great '* History 
of the United States" has been in progress, 
reaching its tenth volume in I<sr)7. He has 
been U. S. Minister at Berlin since 1869. 



William C. Bryant was born in JNIassa- 
chusetts in 1794. He contributed lines to 
the county Gazette when ten years old, and 
four years later published two poems ; at 19 
he wrote his " Thanatopsis. He was for 
two years in Williams College,and afterwards 
studied law. In 1825 he edited the New 
York Review, and in 1826 became editor of 
the Evening Post, with which he is still con- 
nected. He has written much both in poetry 
and prose. His prose is remarkable for its 
purity and elegance. 

John Lothrop IMotley, who at once took 
rank with Prescott and Bancroft as a histo- 
rian, was born in Dorchester, Mass., in 1814, 
educated at Harvard University, and subse- 
quently at Gottingen and Berlin, studied 
law, and was admitted to the bar in 1836, 
but did not practice. He wrote two histori- 
cal novels, published in 1839 and 1849, was 
secretary of legation to Russia in 1840, be- 
came interested in the history of Holland in 
1845, and after collecting material for a his- 
tory here, went to Europe in 18r)l. and spent 
five years at Berlin, Dresden, and the Hague 
in the composition of his " Rise of the Dutch 
Republ c," published in 1P56. This was fol- 
lowed, in 1860, by three volumes of a history 
of ''The United Netherlands," and in 1866, 
he published two more volumes of this his- 
tory ; minister to Austria in l^ 61, recalled 
1867 ; minister to England 1809, 1870. 

Richard Hildreth (1807-1805) was an 
able political writer, novelist and historian. 
He will be longest remembered for his val- 
uable " History of the United States," in 
six volumes. He was also author of a work 
on Japan. He was, at the time of his death, 
U. S. Consul at Trieste. 

Benson J. Lossing ( born in Beekman, N. 
Y., in 1813) has attained a high reputation 
as a historian and historical biographer. His 
" Pictorial Field Book of the Revolution." 
his works on Washington and Mount Ver- 
non, Life of '' Philip Schuyler," " Histories 
of the Uniied States," " War of 1812," and 
"•Pictorial History of the Rebellion," are all 
works of interest and valu'% and their illus- 
trations are from his own skilU'ul pencil. 

James T. Headley, Jacob and John S. C. 
Abbott, John Foster Kirk, Francis Parkni.ui, 
J. Romeyn Broadhead, K. B. O'Callaglian, 
Parke Godwin, Charles Gnyarre, Francis L. 
Hawks, and Amos Dean have all jiublished 
historical works of some r<'|>ufation. 

Many of the frmale writers of America 
have achieved distinction. j\lrs. Emma AVil- 



THEOLOGIANS — STATKSMI.N XOVIXISIS — HISTORIANS. 



285 



lurd wrote extensively on history and educa- 
tional topics, and her sister, Mrs. Almira II 
Phelps, has not only contributed several 
text-l)ooks to physical science, but has a fair 
reputation, as a novelist. Hannah Adams, 
the pioneer of female writers in Amorici, 
born 175(5, wrote a "History of New Kn^- 
land." " Vienna." &c. Mrs. Eliza Leslie 
(1787-1857) wrote several excellent novels, 
and some works of great value, in the do- 
main of the cuUnai-y at. filrs. Lydia II 
Sigourney (1791-18(>5) was alike remark 
hie for her poetical and her prose works ; 
many of the latter were prepared for the 
yoimg. IMiss Catharine M. Sedgwick (1789- 
1807) was the author of "The Lin woods," 
'• Redwood," " Hope Leslie," &c., novels of 
great merit. Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe 
(horn in 1812) has been the most successful 
ot" novelists. Iler " Uncle Tom's Cabin " 
sold to the extent of about 35(),()0() eopies 
in the United States, and over l,5()(),0()(l 
in Great Britain, and her subsequent nov- 
els, " Dred." "The Minister's Wooing," 
"A^nes of Sorrento," " The Pearl of Orr's 
Island," "Old Town Folks," "Old Town 
Stories," " Pink and AVhite Tyrany," 
" -Harry Henderson's History," etc., etc., 
have had a large sale. She has also written 
descriptive, biographical, and other works, 
and occasional poems of great merit. Her 
si-ter, Miss Catharine E. Beecher, has written 
numerous works, educational and controver- 
sial. ]\Iiss Susan W^arner has achieved a 
high reputation f under her nom de plume 
of Elizabeth \Vetherell) by her novels, 
"The Wide, Wide World," " Qjeechy," 
"The Hills of the Shatetnuc," and "Say 
and Seal," etc. Mrs. S. P. W. Parton 
(Fanny Fern) has been very successful, not 
only as a novelist, in her " Ruth Hall," but 
as a light essayist, in her " Fern Leaves," 
&c. Miss M. .1. Mackintosh, the author of 
" Cliarms and Counter-Charms," and numer- 
ous other novels, has a high reputation. 
Mrs. E. D. E. N. Southworth (born in 18 IS) 
commenced her career as an author in 18 13, 
and since that time has published over one 
hundred novels, all of them of considerable 
merit. Mr.s. Ann S. Stephens (born in 1813) 
has attained distinction as a nov'elLst, as a 
writer of historical and practical works, and 
as editor of a lalies' magazine. Mrs. E. 
Oakes Smitli has written largely and well 
on the most diverse subjects — metaphysics, 
literature, household matters, criticism, the 
drama, poetry, and fiction. 



Mrs. Lydia Maria Child (born 1802) has 
been a very j)opular writer. Her " Ilobo- 
mok " and " The Rebels " were her earlier 
efforts, and brought her reputation which 
was increased by her subsequent works. 
Mrs. Caroline M. Kirkland (1801-1861) 
was a graceful and elegant writer. Her 
" New Home — Who'll FoIIdw ?" first intro- 
duced her to th(! public, and her subsequent 
works enhanced her reputation. Mrs Alico 
B. (Neal) Haven (1828-18(;3) edited the 
Saturdai/ Gazette after the dea:h of her hus- 
band, (.Joseph C. Neal) and subsequently 
publi.sheda volume of poems and a number 
of admirable juvenile books. 

Mrs. Mary J. Holmes, JMi-s. M. Virginia 
Terhune (Marion Ilarland), ]\Irs. Anna C. 
(Mowatt) Ritchie, Mi-s A. J. Evans, Mis-es 
Alice and Plucbe Cary, Mrs. E. F. EUet, 
Mrs. E. C. P^mbury, INIiss Maria Cummins, 
Miss Caroline Chesebro, JMrs. II. Prescott 
Spofford, Mrs. E. Robinson (Talvi), Mrs. 
Catharine A. Warfield, Mrs. Harriet Stuart 
Phelps and her daughter, Miss E. Stuart 
Phelps, Mrs. Elizalxith Stoddard, INIrs. IMary 
A. Denison, Mrs. M. A. Sadlier. Mrs. Mar- 
garet C. Lawrence, Mrs. Madeline Leslie, 
Miss Caroline Kelly, JNIrs. I\I. E. Hewitt, 
Miss Virginia F. Townsend, IMrs. L. C. 
Tuthill, Mrs. Emily C Julson (Fanny For- 
rester, 181 7-1851), Mrs. Helen C. Knight, 
Mrs. G. Prentiss, Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney, 
.Miss Helen C. Weeks, Mrs. J. D. Chaplin, 
Mrs. IMary D. Chellis, have all written po[)u- 
lar works of fiction, or light literature, which 
have had a very large sale. 

Mrs. S. Margaret Fuller, afterwards Coun- 
tess D'Ossoli, one of the most vigorous and 
thoughtful writers of any age, (1810-1850) 
was for some years in charge of the literary 
department of the N. Y. Tribune., and pub- 
lished beside some translation =s and many 
essays, and a work entitled " Woman in the 
Nineteenth Century." 

Several of the ladies named above have 
distinguished themselves as poets, ])articu- 
larly Mrs. Sigourney, whose religious an<l 
elegiac poems have given her a high rei)U- 
tation ; Mrs. Stowe, Mrs. E. Oak{;s Smith, 
Mrs. Alice B. Haven, Mrs. Emily C. Judson, 
Miss Alice Cary, and her sister. Miss Phoebe 
Cary. But there are other American female 
writers, whose poetry alone has won them 
high distinction. Among t'.iese we may 
name Mrs. Maiia Brooks (INIaria del Occi- 
dent, 1795-1815), whoso principal poem, 
"Zophiel," attracted attention in Europe 



286 



PRITING-PRESS. 



from its remarkable curative power; the 
Davidson sisters, remarkable instances of 
precocious talent ; Mrs. Frances Sargent Os- 
good (1812-1850), remarkable for her play- 
fulness of fancy and felicity of expression ; 
Miss Hannah F. Gould, (1789-1865) a poet 
of rare ability and vigor ; Mrs. Julia Ward 
Howe, perhaps the most gifted of our living 
female po' ts ; Mrs. Frances Anne Kemble 
(1811-1871) ; Mrs. Caroline Oilman ; Mrs. 
Sarah J. Lippincott, (Grace Greenwood), 
whose '"Ariadne a Naxos " attracted great 



attention from its intensity of passion ; Mrs. 
Amelia B. Welby, remarkable for the exquis- 
ite rhythm of her poetry ; Mrs. Sarah Helen 
Whitman, Mrs. Anne C. (Lynch) ljutta,Mrs. 
Estelle Anna Lewis, Mrs. ^arah J. Ilale, 
Miss Caroline May, Mrs. Maria Lowell, Mrs. 
Mnry H. C. Booth, Miss Edna Dean Proctor, 
Mrs. Rosa V. Johnson, Miss Rose Terry, Mrs. 
M. S. B. Dana, and Miss Anna Di inker 
(Edith May). There are others perhaps who 
deserve a place in this record, but these have 
all gained a prominent position as poets. 



PRIMNG-PRESS. 



CHAPTER I. 

PRINTING PRESS— HANDPOWER— 
LIGHTNING. 

If a middle-aged man now visits the press- 
room of a " crack " daily, and observes a 
huge machine, some twenty feet high, driven 
by a steam engine, delivering seven large 
newspapers, nicely printed, at every tick of a 
clock, and watches the piles of paper grow- 
ing at the rate of 420 per minute, or at 
that of 25,200 per hour, weighing over one 
ton, and reflects that the utmost power of 
the best machines of his youth would require 
an active man and a boy two long hours 
to do what this whizzing monster does in 
a minute, he will form some idea of the pro- 
gress made in paper printing, and also of 
what is required to meet a daily demand. 
In the days of Franklin, the press-work of a 
paper was a very laborious affilir. The ma- 
chines of that day were very imperfect, and, 
if reference is had to the illustration on an- 
other page, contrasting the actual machine 
which Franklin used, and which is still pre- 
served in the patent office at Washington, 
with the fast press now in use, a good idea 
win be formed of the progress in press- 
building. In that press, it will be observed, 
the bed is a platform about three feet high, 
between two uprights. In the cross-piece at 
the top is a female screw in which works 
the screw attached to the wooden platen. 
This screw being turned by the pressman, 
causes the platen to ascend and descend. 



There is, in front, a table, which slides over 
the platform at the will of the operator, who, 
to effect this, turns a crank. On this table 
was laid the type. Over the type was a 
frame, which encircled the type, or form, and 
crossed it in those places where the white 
margin appears in a printed paper. On this 
frame the paper of proper size was laid, after 
being " wet down ;" another fold of the 
frame confined the paper ; the whole was 
then slid on to the platform. The screw 
being turned, caused the platen to descend, 
and the i'mpression was made. The screw 
was then raised, the form slid back, the frame 
raised, and the paper lifted and examined by 
the pressman to see if his impression was 
"good." If it satisfied him, he proceeded 
to ink his types for a new impression. The 
ink employed in printing is very different 
from that employed for writing, and much 
skill is required in the manufacture. It 
must be soft, adhesive, and easily trans- 
ferred ; it must dry quicklj', and be durable, 
and not liable to spread. The usual mate- 
rials are linseed oil, rosin, and coloring mat- 
ters, lamp-black being used for black ink. 
The peculiar mode of the best makers is 
somewhat of a secret. The old mode of ap- 
plying it was by two ink balls, about the 
size of a man's hat, made of soft leather, and 
stuffed with cotton, the leather being nailed 
round a wooden handle. The pressman, 
taking one in each hand, daubed them with 
ink, and worked them together until he had 
spread the ink. lie then applied them to 




^ =^ _ vv,\v,-:v^s N. y •~=^J 



ST ATCE OF BENJAMIN ll;\\KLl\ l.\ PUIXTLNU llUL.-l'; Sy^AUK, \K\V VOIUv. 



PRIXTINO-PUESS IIAXD POWER LIOHTNIXO. 



287 



the types as evenly as possible; then, laying 
them aside, lie proceeded, as before, to lay 
his paper evenly upon the frames, slide it 
up, work the screw, etc. By this process, 
an active man could work fifty sheets in an 
hour ; by ten hours steady industry, he 
could get off an edition of 500 copies for 
the carriers in the morning. There was lit- 
tle room for much expansion under such a 
state of printing. The first great advance in 
the direction of speed, was when the lever 
was substituted for the screw in nuiking the 
impression. This was introduced by Mr. John 
Clynier, and called the Columbian, or Clymer 
])ress, in which there was no screw, but the 
head itself was a large and powerful lever, 
acted on bv proportionate levers, thus bring- 
ing to periectioii, for presses of a large size, 
certain principles of leverage which had pre- 
viously been patented in England, and used 
in presses of a small size, such as foolscap. 
The platen was, in fact, a fulcrum for the 
head, or great lever. Thus the fulcrum and 
lever superseded the inclined plane, or screw. 
Mr. Clymer went to England in 1817, and, 
at that time, the famous " Cobbett's Regis- 
ter" was printed on an " Ameri(;an press," a 
circumstance that was regarded as a great 
joke at the time. By this invention, two 
levers, one affixed at the cross-piece above, 
and one to the platen, were brought together 
by a joint, like the bent knee of a man's 
leg. At this joint was applied a lever, by 
which the pressman, with one pull, brought 
the joint into a perpendicular line, by so do- 
ing giving an instantaneous and powerful 
impression. The platen being suspended 
by spiral springs, instantly rose when the 
lever was released. The saving in time was 
immense, one pull of the Avorkman being 
sufficient for all the old screwing and un- 
screwing. Improvements in the Clymer 
press were made by Peter Smith and Sam- 
uel Knst, and these improvements are com- 
bined in lioe's Washington press, of which 
a cut will be found on another page. Inven- 
tions of a similar character were made by 
Mr. John Wells, of Connecticut. The prin- 
ciple of the lever has been applied in various 
ways, and contains the chief feature in press 
power. The form of lever now generally 
used, will be seen in the engraving of Iloe 
and Smith's printing press, which is the fa- 
vorite for all work wliere power presses are 
•not required. Next to the introduction of 
the lever, was the substitution of the inking 
machine for the old ink balls. This Mas 



constructed of a cylinder which revolved, by 
hand, against an ink trough, and, by so do- 
ing, received evenly over its surface the ink. 
The smaller rollers were constructed on a 
light frame, to which a handle was attached. 
These, laid upon the iidc roller, received from 
it the ink, and tlion being pushed forward 
over the type, imparted it to them with one 
movement of the hand. This, worked by a 
boy, is seen in the engraving. The pressman 
was now relieved of the inking, and, work- 
ing with a lever, he could print, ^ith active 
industry, 250 sheets in an hour. The next 
movement was to make this inking machine 
self-acting, by attaching it to the press in 
such a manner that lifting the paper frame 
would cause it to act. 

The Ruggles Job press, introduced in 18.30, 
and the Combination press patented in 1841, 
both enjoyed a large measure of popvdarity, 
but have been of late superceded by other 
styles, especially those manufactured by 
R. Hoe & Co., who have been instrumental 
in making most of the eaily improvements 
of late years u])on the jirinting press. 

The next important improvement in the 
machines, Avas the introduction of the cylin- 
der, or Napier press. In this machine, of 
which an engraving is presented in another 
column, the form of type is locked upon a 
strong iron table, which moves forward and 
backward, passing in its course under a cyl- 
inder, which, made of iron, is covered with 
a soft blanket, and provided with a set of 
fingers to seize the sheet as it is presented. 
Against this is inclined the feeding bench, on 
which is laid the paper. On the bench is a 
small bi'ass peg, or pointer, against which 
the feeder brings the paper accurately, in or- 
der that the sheets may " register" — that is, 
each receive the type at the same distance 
from the margin. When the cylinder re- 
volves, it raises with its fingers the edge 
of the paper, draws it round itself, and 
presses it against the type, which, at the 
same instant, passes under it. Tlie paper 
then released by the cylinder, is carried by 
ribbons to the rear, while the type vibrates 
back, to return as soon as the c} linder has 
again drawn forward a sheet of paper. At 
first, a boy was required to fly the papers, or 
catch them as they were thrown back from 
the cylinder, and pile them up. This, by the 
self-acting flyer, as seen in the engraving, is 
now dispensed with. This machine raised 
the number* that might be printed to be- 
tween 2,000 and ;:,0U0 per hour. The led 



288 



PRINTING-PRESS. 



is mjule of a size to take a paper from 25x33 
inches, to one 40x00 inches, Very soon an 
improvement suggested itself to the ingenious 
and thouglitful inventor. As at first con- 
structed, the type, in moving forward and 
backward, made only one impression. It 
was easy to introduce another cylinder, in 
order to take an impression from the type 
on its return. This was the double cylinder, 
which delivers a paper at each end. The 
cost of these i-^, for the large size, $6,850 ; 
increased capacity, 3,500 to 6,400 impressions 
per hour. In this operation, the vibration 
of the type bed was the great difficulty. 
The type and bed will weigh over 1,000 lbs. 
This mass, moving backward and forward 
with great momentum, produced a great 
concussion, although it was met by strong 
springs which stopped its progress and aided 
its return. Alany improvements were made 
in these springs. The noise and annoyance 
occasioned by the concussion of the bed 
against the springs, Nvliich arc placed at each 
end of the machine to overcome the momen- 
tum of the bed, was removed by means of 
adjustable India-rubber buffers placed at the 
points of contact, which in no way interfere 
with the lively and certain action of the .spi- 
ral springs. The same object is also effected 
by air springs, by which the licad of the 
bed, plunging into a receiver, condenses the 
air, causing it to act as a spring. 

It was obvious, however, that the weight 
and concussion of this bed were a bar to 
further progress in this direction, and it was 
felt that greater speed could be attained only 
by causing the type itself to revolve. This 
was no new idea. It had been patented in 
England in 1790, but the inventor could 
not succeed in holding the types, since the 
rapid revolution of such a weight gives a 
powerful centrifugal motion. What they 
could not do in England, Richard M. Iloe 
did in New York, in 1847, after many at- 
tempts had been nuide to accomplish the de- 
sired result. In this machine, as Avill be 
seen in the illustration, the form of type is 
placed on the surface of a horizontal revolv- 
ing cylinder of about four and a half feet in 
diameter. The form occupies a segment of 
only about one-fourth of the surface of the 
cylinder, and the remainder is used as an 
ink-distributing surface. Around this main 
cylinder, and parallel with it, are placed 
smaller impression cylinders, varying in num- 
ber from four to ten, according to the size 
of the machine. The engraving represents 



three. The large cylinder being put in mo- 
tion, the form of types is carried successively 
to all the impression cylinders, at each of 
which a sheet is introduced, and receives the 
impression of the types as the form passes. 
Thus, as many sheets are printed at each rev- 
olution of the main cylinder, as there are 
impression cylinders around it. One person 
is required at each impression cylinder to 
supply the sheets of paper, which are taken 
at the proper moment by lingers or grippcrs, 
and, after being printed, are conveyed out by 
tapes and laid in lieaps by means of self-act- 
ing flyers, thereby dispensing with the 
hands required in ordinary machines to re- 
ceive and pile the sheets. The grippcrs 
hold the sheet securely, so that the thinnest 
newspaper may be printed without waste. 

The ink is contained in a fountain placed 
beneath the main cylinder, and is conveyed 
by means of distributing rollers to the dis- 
tributing surface on the main cylinder. This 
surface being lower, or less in diameter than 
the form of types, passes by the impression 
cylinder without touching. For each im- 
pression, there are two inking rollers, which 
receive their supply of ink from the distrib- 
uting surface of the main cylinder, which 
rise and ink the form as it passes under 
them, after which, they again fall to the dis- 
tributing surface. 

Each page of the paper is locked up on a 
detached segment of the large cylinder which 
constitutes its bed and chase. The column 
rules run parallel with the shaft of the cylin- 
der, and are, consequently, straight, while 
the head, advertising, and dash rules, 
are in the form of segments of a circle. 
The column rules are in the form of a 
wedge, with the thin part directed toward 
the axis of the cylinder, so as to bind the 
types securely. These wedge-shaped column 
rules are held down to the bed by tongues 
projecting at intervals along their length, 
which slide in rebated grooves cut crosswise 
in the face of the bed. The spaces m the 
grooves between the column rules are accu- 
rately fitted with sliding blocks of metal 
even with the surface of the bed, the ends 
of which blocks are cut away underneath to 
receive a projection on the sides of the 
tongues of the column rules. The form of 
type is locked up in the bed by means of 
screws at the foot and sides, by which the 
type is held as securely as in the ordinary' 
manner upon a flat bed — if not even more 
so. The speed of these machines is limited 



PniKTINO-PKESS HAND POWER LIGHTNING. 



297 



only by the ability of the feeders to supply 
the sheets. The four-cyliiulrr macliiiie is 
run at a speed of over 10,000 per hour; the 
six-cylinder machine, 15,000 an hour; the 
cii^ht-cylinder machine, 20,000 ; and' the ten- 
cylinder machine, 25,000. This system com- 
bines the greatest speed in printing, durabil- 
ity of the machinery, and economy of labor. 
As we have said, this great machine deliv- 
ers seven sheets per second, or 420 per min- 
ute. It does in one minute what Franklin 
required ten hours to do, and the papers 
contain ten times as much matter, and are 
eight times as large. Thus, to print as much 
reading would have required 100 hours in 
the last century, against one minute now. 
In other words, 6,000 men with G,000 press- 
es, would have done very badly what this 
machine does very well. 

The next attempted improvement in the 
speed of machines has been, to do for the re- 
volving cylinder what was done before with 
the Napier press. In the case of the latter, 
another cylinder Avas introduced to take the 
type on its return vibration, thus getting two 
impressions from one movement. In the 
case of the revolving type, something simi- 
lar has been attempted. It has been stated 
that the form of type occupies but a seg- 
ment of the cylinder. It was conceived 
that by placing the other form on the va- 
cant space of the cylinder, that both would 
be printed with one revolution, thus doub- 
ling the amount of work done by the same 
number of revolutions. The mechanical 
part the Messrs. Hoe succeeded in perfecting, 
but the ditticulty encountered was in the pa- 
per. It will be conceived that when the pa- 
per is printed with such inconceivable rapid- 
ity, that the ink has no time to " set," and 
to impress it on the other side in almost the 
same instant of time is more tlu.n the nature 
of the operation will permit, and the type 
"takes otf," so to speak, or will not pro- 
duce a pei'fect impression. Some other per- 
sons made the same attempt, with similar re- 
sults. I'rogrcss in that direction has, there- 
fore, been suspi-ndeil, bi.t the ellbrts of gen- 
ius are l)eing directed anew, and tlie expe- 
rience of the j)ast has warned us not to be 
surprised at what may yet be done. There 
have been attemjits made to simplify the 
process by fitting stereotype plates to cylin- 
ders, and with some succi'ss ; but under the 
old plaster process too long a time was re- 
quired lor di ying and finishing to permit their 
use by the daily jjress. The introduction of 



the paper process, (making the dies or mat- 
rices in which the stereotype j)lates are cast, 
of ])aper pulp) has efi^ected a complete revo- 
lution, and all the dailies of large circulation 
stereot^'pe their forms. 

The weeklies of large circulation, are usu- 
ally printed on Hoe's large single cylinder 
press. In these cases, where time is not so 
much an object, the forms are multiplied by 
the electrotypes and worked on a large num- 
ber of presses. la some cases, the circula- 
tion running up to 400,000 weekly, a press 
ruiming 1,500 per hour, or 20.000 in a day, 
will require ten presses four days to perfect 
the edition on both sides, and for this pur- 
pose, ten separate forms will be required. 
These machines will take a form 19x23-| 
inches, and up to 40x57 iiuhes. The cost 
of the former is : 1,8'JO, and of the latter 
size, $3,900. 

The press most u-ed for book work differs 
in principle from either the Is'apier or the 
revolving type. It was the invention of 
Isaac Adams, of Massachusetts, and it bears 
his name. The type in the press has no 
movement except slightly up and down. It 
receives the ink from a self-acting machine, 
and the paper is fed to it from an inclined 
plane, when, the impression being made, it 
is lifted oti' by the fiy and deposited in the 
rear. It is one of the most perfect of presses. 
The prices of these vary from $1,050 to $G,- 
250 according to size. The engraving on 
another page will give a good idea of this 
machine, of which the patent is secured by 
the Messrs. Hoe. 

For the best qualities of book, wood-cut, 
and color printing, wliei'e the wood cuts are 
jn'inted in the same page with letter-press, 
the Messrs. Hoe (to whom all the most im- 
portant of the late improvements in printing 
presses are due) have produced a " stop-cyl- 
inder wood-cut press," which by its numer- 
ous rollers and its perfect adjustment, secures 
the finest possible im])ressions of the best 
aood engravings. It has from two to ten 
form rollers, and from three to twelve dis- 
ributors, according to size, and by an at- 
laclini nt the rollers may be made to pass 
over the form two or four times between 
each impression. There is no jairing of the 
bed, and by an ingenious device a perfect 
rejiister is obtained. A " Type Revolving 
Book Perfecting Pre^s " of their construc- 
tion is also an admirable machine tor the 
finest book work, but is very expensive. 
Among other book and newsjiaper pressts of 



298 



TYPES. 



considerable merit, introduced within the 
past ten year^:, are the Cottrell and Babcock, 
the A. B. Taylor, the A. Campbell, and the 
C. Potter, Jr. & Co. presses. Messivs. Van- 
deburgh & Wells, dealers in printing presses 



and printers' materials, express a preference 
for the first two, but all have their good qual- 
ities. There are also several new jobbing 
presses, including two of Hoe's, Gordon's, 
the Universal, and the Globe. 



TYPES. 



CHAPTER I. 

TYPE FOUNDING— STERKOTTPINa — ELEC- 
TROTYPING. 

There has been little change in the gene- 
ral form of metal types used in printing, but 
much improvement in the quality of the 
metal used, in the style of the letters, and in 
the process of casting. There are many 
sizes of type used, but the ten following are 
those most used in books and newspapers. 
They are mentioned in the order of the sizes, 
the smallest being first : — Diamond ; Pearl ; 
Agate; Nonpareil; Minion; Brevier; Bour- 
geois; Long Primer; Small Pica; Pica. 
The size of the type employed in this page 
is Long Primer. 

There are some combinations of these 
sizes ; but these are the leading ones most 
in use. These have not varied much for a 
long period of time, although the compe- 
tition among the type founders has led to 
the introduction of many styles. 

In 1812, on the publication of "The Co- 
lumbiad," by Joel Barlow, a size of type, 
known as Columbian, was cut for the work, 
which was designed to be very perfect. It 
was embellished by Robert Fulton ; and it 
wai the first ever printed upon Clymer's 
newly invented press, which press took the 
nam 3 of the Columbian in consequence. 

The casting of the type was, until within 
fifteen years, done by hand for each separate 
letter. The matrix of the type is of cop- 
per, 1|- inches long, | of an inch deep, and 
of the breadth of the type to be cast. The 
form of the letter is made in the end of the 
copper matrix by a steel die. The copper 
matrix is then inclosed in a wooden box, 
which has a hopper to admit the melted 
metal. There is a spring attached, by which 
the matrix n^ay be opened to release the let- 
ter when cast. The caster, holding this in 
his left hand, takes from the furnace, with a 
very small iron ladle or spoon, about as 



much of the metal as will form one letter. 
This he pours in, and at the same time gives 
the matrix a smart upward jerk, which set- 
tles the metal into the finest cuts of the let- 
ter. He then presses the spring, hooks out 
the letter, closes the matrix, and proceeds as 
before. A skilful man will in this way cast 
500 types in an hour. In 1811, Mr. David 
Bruce received a patent for an improvement 
in the mould, by which 25 per cent, more 
work was done. This system has changed 
since the introduction of machinery. 

About 15 years since, Mr. Geo. Bruce, Jr., 
of New York, invented a very beautiful ma- 
chine for casting type, and it is the best in 
the world. The patent has been renewed at 
the last session of Congress for seven years, 
and the right, title, and interest, have been 
purchased by Messrs. J. Conner & Sons. By 
this machine a man can cast three times as 
much in a day as by the old plan. The 
wages are less than half, per thousand, what 
they were before, but the caster, neverthe- 
less, earns more. In these machines the 
type metal — which is a mixture of lead, tin, 
and antimony — is contained in a state of 
fusion in a small iron reservoir, about 5 
inches square, and into which it is forced 
with great power. This is tapped by a 
nipple, which holds as nuich melted metal 
as will cast a type. The mould is of steel, in 
a small machine which is worked by a crank. 
It is simply for the body of the type, and is 
so placed that the lower end, by a move- 
ment of the machine, will fit exactly over the 
orifice of the nipple. Against the other end 
is applied a copper matrix of the letter, and 
firmly held by a spring. The operator then 
causes the metal to jet into the mould. Then, 
as soon as it is " set," he releases it, opens 
the mould, and allows the tjpe to drop into 
a box. In this ])rocess, the matrix of the 
letter is separated from the bodv of the 
type. It is formed on a steel die, and im- 
pressed into the copper pre\ iously prepared, 




FRANKLIN PRESS. 




PATENT WASHTNGTON PRINTING PRESS. 




PATENT !:.'.XD-PKEeS S I'KAil INKUN'G MACHINK. 




IMPUOVED INKING APPARATUS FOli THE HAND-PRESS 



i-r 


h;i;iiini;i 

.i I^IIIIIIIH' 





^^llii^S!i:li:P" 



\0l¥l!i 





PATENT RAILROAD TICKET MACHINE. 



two feet square. 



TYPE-FOUNDING STEREOTYPING ELECTROTYPING. 



209 



with great force. The adjustnioiit of this 
matrix to the moukl is a work of great care 
and nicety. After the type is cast, l)y 
Avliatever process — wlictlior hy machinery or 
the ancient spoon method — it lias to under- 
go a smoothing operation. This is performed 
by young people, principally girls ; tlirec 
or four sitting around tables surmounted 
■with properly prepared stone slabs, and 
by tlie lingers rubbing the roughness ott" 
each individual type. At this work they 
earn from §5 to '^7 per week. The type 
goes then into the hands of the dresser. lie 
cuts out what is called the jet end, by which 
process all the types are made of the exact 
height. On the nicety of this operation de- 
pends the ability to use the type. It may 
be here remarked that American type comes 
nearly always perfect into the hands of the 
dresser, while in England nearly one-fourth 
is rejected as imperfect. 

The types have upon one side a " nick." 
As the types are perfected, a boy sets them 
on a " galley," with all the nicks out. They 
are then assorted into small ''fonts," and 
arc then ready for the printer. Tlic propor- 
tions in which the diti'erent letters are cast 
to a font of type, and in which they occur 
in print, are as follows : Letter e, 1 500 ; 
t, 900 ; a, 850 ; n, o, s, i, 800 ; h, G40 ; r, 620 ; 
d, 440 ; 1, 400 ; u, 340 ; c, m, 300 ; f, 250 ; 
w, y, 200; g, p, 170 ; b, 160 ; v, 120 ; k, 80 ; 
q, 50 ; j, X, 40 ; z, 20. Besides these, are 
the combined letters : fi, 50 ; ff, 40 ; 11, 20 ; 
ffi, 15; ffl, 10; se, 10; cc, 5. The propor- 
tion for capitals and small capitals differs 
from the small letters. In those, I takes the 
first place, then T, then A and E, etc. The 
" cases" in which the types are put for use, are 
arranged in the manner seen in the engraving 
on another page. The little square boxes 
in which the type is laid are not arranged in 
the I'egular order of the alphabet, but in the 
order which experience has shown is the 
most convenient for the compositor. Those 
letters which occur the oftenest — as e, for 
instance — occupy the largest squares nearest 
his hand, and the others in the order of their 
relative importance ; the capitals, small 
capitals, and marks, each in its proper place, 
in the upper case. The workman does not 
look at the type. He reads his copy only, 
and that frequently tasks his ingenuity to 
make out. lie knows the types from the 
boxes they occupy, and the " nick" enables 
him to place them right side up by sense of 
feeling only. He is paid by the thousand 
18* 



ems when working l)y the piece. An em is 
about the space of a letter M, and 2,200 
ems go to one of the pages of this book. A 
good workman will ret 5,000 to 6,000 ems 
in a day. Sometimes they are paid by the 
week, $12 per week, which is about the 
amount that an expert workman will earn 
by the thousand. The type he places in a 
small iron frame, held in his left hand, and 
called a " stick," which is adjusted to tlio 
breadth of the column or page. When this 
is full, it is deposited on a " galley," in a 
long column. From this galley a proof im- 
pression is taken to> be read by the author 
and proof-reader. The inaccuracies are 
marked on this, and when corrected in the 
type, the foreman "makes up his form." If 
for a daily paper, this is done by screwing 
the columns into the " turtle," which is fas- 
tened upon the revolving cylinder of the 
press. When the type has been printed 
from or worked off, it is immediately washed 
in a strong alkali, to clear it from the ink. 
If this is not done thoroughly, it will not 
print clear. Formerly this washing was 
done with urine, but of late an alkali is 
substituted. The clean type has no\v to be 
" distributed," or put back into the cases. 
For this purpose the compositor takes the 
" matter" in his left hand, reads a line, and 
drops each letter into its appropriate i)lace. 
This occupies a good deal of time. 

Most of this typesetting and distributing 
is still done by hand up to the present time, 
although the greatest efforts have been 
made to introduce machinery. A number of 
type-setting machines have been invented, 
and many of them work well in the setting of 
the type — the operator working upon keys, 
like those of a piano, Avith the copy before 
him. The arrangement is such that, by 
touching the proper key, the appropriate 
letter falls into line, and the work goes on 
rapidly and well, even to the punctuation. 
The difficulty not yet overcome, and whicli 
is an obstacle to its usefulness, is that ih) 
means of "justifying", have been discov- 
ered — that is, of breaking the lines into 
the suitable length, and " sj>acing" them' out 
so that each line shall have the exact length 
of all the rest. This is done by the lland 
compositor, with great nicety, in his iron 
stick, as his work progresses. As this must 
still be done by hand, after the machine has 
set up the type, no great advantage is de- 
rived from its action. In type distributing 
more success has been obtained. The ma- 



300 



chine is so constructed that it will distribute 
12,000 ems per hour with unerring accuracy, 
and one man may tend three machines ; 
hence he will distribute, by its aid, 36,000 
ems per hour, Avhile a good workman by 
hand will only distribute 3,000 eras. This 
seems very desirable, but a new difficulty 
presents itself. The machine cannot read, 
so as to distinguish one letter from another, 
and it is guided in its selection by the 
" nicks." It follows, that no two of the 
twenty-four letters of the alphabet should 
have the same "nicks;" consequently, a 
special kind of type must be cast for the 
machine. They are then put into it in 
a mass, and present themselves alternately 
until the proper " nick" goes through. The 
advantages of the machine do not overcome 
its disadvantages. 

In book work the type is not hurried from 
the compositor to the pressman, as in the 
case of the daily papers. There is more time, 
and the type itself is, therefore, not usually 
printed from, but it is stereotyped. This 
was introduced in America about the year 
1817, by Mr. G. Bruce, the ftither of the in- 
ventor of the type-casting machine. 

In this process, the type being locked 
up in the form, which usually contains 2 to 6 
pages, and carefully revised and corrected, is 
sent to the stereotyper. 

Stereotyping is the mode of casting per- 
fect fac-similes, in metal, of the face of 
movable types. The plan is simple. After 
arranging the type in pages, and getting it 
perfectly smooth and clean, it is placed in a 
frame, the surface being thoi*oughly oiled, 
to prevent the mould from adhering, when 
liquid gypsum, or plaster-of-Paris, is poured 
over the page. The mould, thus taken, if 
found perfect, is dressed with a sharp in- 
strument, and is then ready to receive the 
metal. It is then put into an iron cast- 
ing-box, and the whole immersed in liquid 
type metal. Twenty to thirty minutes usu- 
ally suffice for casting. The box is then 
swung out of the molten mass into a cool- 
ing-trough, in which the under side is ex- 
posed to the water. When hard, the caster 
breaks off the superfluous metal, and sepa- 
i-ates the plaster mould from the plate. It is 
then picked, the edges trimmed, the back 
shaved to a proper thickness, and made 
ready for the press. 

The process of electrotyping has, of late, 
become an important element, and is in many 
cases prefencd to the old s^y^U lu of stereo- 



typing. It results from the disposition of 
copper, held in solution, to deposit itself on 
a metal surface, when under the influence of 
magnetism. 

btereutyping by the Electrotype process 
is conducted as follows : An impression is 
taken from the corrected forms or engraved 
block upon a plate of wax. and finely pul- 
verized plumbago is then ducted thinly over 
the surface of the wax. The excess is blown 
away in a machine contrived for this pur- 
pose, and the fine dust remains uniformly in 
contact with the wax in every little depres- 
sion and line, without filling these up. The 
ol^ject of the plumbago is to act as the con- 
ducting medium for the galvanic current, 
until a film of copper is deposited. But by 
a recent modification of the process, this 
film is also produced before the article is 
put into the trough, by the application of 
a wash of sulphate of copper, (solution of 
blue vitriol,) and dusting over it fine iron 
filings. The solution is decomposed by the 
iron, and metallic copper is immediately 
precipitated, forming a delicate film which 
uniformly covers the whole surface. The 
wax plate retaining this film is well washed, 
and is then ready for the galvanic trough. 
In this it is left over niglit under the influ- 
ence of the electric current, and in the 
morning when taken out, the coating of cop- 
per is foimd to be sufficiently thick for hand- 
ling. The wax is removed, and the copper 
sheet, first tinned on the back, is placed fiice 
down in an apj)aratus in Avhich it is covered 
with melted type metal. Thus backed a 
plate is obtained, which, after being dressed 
by planing and squaring, is screwed down 
upon a mahogany block, the height of the 
whole being the same as that of type. 

Plates for use upon the cylinders of print- 
ing machines are made with the curve of the 
cylinders, the forms themselves in which the 
type are paged having a convex surface, 
which gives them the name of '' turtles." 

In making copper-faced type, ordinary 
types are set in a frame so arranged as to 
let only th(^ letter end in the copper solution 
of the battery. The deposit of copper ad- 
heres to this end, which it completely covers. 
Such type are now extensively used iu large 
establishments, and are very durable. 

Within the past twelve years, several pro- 
cesses have been invented, for copying print- 
ed books, steel and wood engravings, maps, 
etc., by photography upon stone or hardened 
wax or metallic surfaces and by etching, or 



NEWSl'APEUS — DAILIES WEEKLIES PERIODICALS. 



301 



the use of acids, transforming these copies 
into matrices from which pUxtcs coiihl be 
cast analogous to stereotype or electrotype 
l)lates. These processes, of which Osborne's 
Photolithographic, the Ileliotype, the Albcr- 
type, and Jewett's and INIorse's Gerographic 
processes are those best known, have reached 
vai-ious stages of perfection, but are undoubt- 



edly destined to be of great service in some 
departments of the printing art. One of 
the finest specimens of tliis kind of work, 
was the fac-simile edition of Albert Durer's 
" Little Passion," copied from William C. 
Prime, Estp, by Mr. Julius Bien, a New- 
York Artist." 



NEWSPAPERS. 



CHAPTER I. 

NEWSPAPERS— DAILIES— WEEKLIES— PE- 
RIODICALS. 

The power and circulation of the daily 
press are among the marvels of the present 
daj', and they are features peculiarly Ameri- 
can. No country presents such a number 
of news publications, and none sucli a uni- 
versal popular demand for them. This re- 
sult has been obtained mostly in the last 
twenty-five years, by a combination of 
causes. The two leading ones, are the intro- 
duction of the cheap press and the inven- 
tion of the means of so multiplying num- 
bers, that much interesting matter can be 
sold for a little money. Take a leading- 
morning daily. This is equal to a book of 
more than 100 solid octavo pages, sold to 
the retailer for one and a half cents every 
morning, no profit being derived from the 
sale. This has become possible only through 
the ability to produce a vast numl)er on 
one hand, and tlirougli the immense re- 
ceipts for advertising on the other. By the 
introduction of a cheap press, is not to be 
understood the mere printing of a mass of 
matter for a small price, but the introduction 
of such matter as attracts the attention of 
persons not previously habitual readers, and 
exciting in them so strong an interest as to 
make papers for the future a necessity. It is 
this which has been done by the cheap press. 

The first newspapers of the country were 
hardly worth the name. In the colonics 
there was little of interest to draw public 
attention, and such papers as the Spectator 
and Tattler came across the water to meet 
the literary taste of the more wealthy, while 
the jealous care of the mother country 
watched over the colonial papers, lest they 



should breed sedition. Dr. Franklin informs 
us that the first start he got in life was 
through the misfortune of his brotlier, who 
owned the paper on which he was an appren- 
tice, in incurring the displeasure of the gov- 
ernment for disrespectful remarks. The pa- 
per was suspended, as Paris papers are at the 
present day, and Benjamin's indentures were 
cancelled in order that he might become the 
nominal owner. The editor of the Boston 
Courant, in 1732, made his valedictory to 
the public, because he found it too vexatious 
to be running with his proof in his pocket 
to the government house, and the new editor 
promised to do the best he could under the 
circumstances. There were few subjects 
then to intei-est the general reader, and the 
restricted state of industry allowed but little 
range for advertising. The paper was poor, 
and mostly imported at a high price from 
England, while the laborious work of a man 
through the live-long night on the presses of 
the day, gave but a few hundred to circulate 
in the morning, and these few were to be 
sold at a rate that must cover all the expen- 
ses — that is to say, for more than they Avere 
worth. 

The first daily paper published in the 
United States, was the Peiinsylvania Packet 
or General Advertiser, started as a weekly, by 
John Dunlap, in 1771, and merged into a 
daily in 1784, at the peace. To one of the 
conductors of the paper, Washington gave 
the manuscript of his " Farewell Address," 
and which, at a sale made in 185.5, was pur- 
chased by Mr. Lennox, of New York, for 
§2,000. The first form in which printed 
news appeared in England was that of dog- 
gerel ballads, which were issued as early as 
the reign of Queen Mary. These were fol- 
lowed by occasional sheets, or pamphlets, of 



802 



NEWSPAPERS. 



news ; but the first approach to a rejijuhir 
newspaper was the Wcckiy Ncivcsfrom Italy ^ 
Germanic, d'c, May 23, 1022, wliicli was con- 
tinued, with some variations of title and oc- 
casional intermissions, until 1G40. The ear- 
liest specimen of jKirliameutary reportini; is 
entitled, 2'hc Diurnal Occur renccs or Daily 
Proceedinys of Both Iloufics in this Great 
and Happy Parliament, from 3rf November, 
1G40, to 'Ad iYowwifttr, 1641. IMore than 
one hundred newspapers, with dillerent 
titles, appear to have been juiblishcd between 
this date and the death of Charles I., and up- 
ward of eighty others between that event 
and the Restoration. Occasional papers 
■were issued after the civil war began, limited 
to local or special occurrences, as News from 
Hull, Truths from York, Tidinys from Ire- 
land. The more regular newspapers were 
published weekly at first, then twice or thrice 
in a week. The impatience of the people 
soon led to the publication of daily papers ; 
and Spalding, the Aberdeen annalist, men- 
tions that in December, 1042, daily papers 
came from London, called Diurnal Occur- 
rences, declaring what was done in I'arliament. 
In the Scottish campaign of 1050, the army 
of Charles and that of Oliver Cromwell each 
carried its printer along with it to re})ort 
progress, and, of course, to exaggerate suo 
cesses. It is from this circumstance that the 
first introduction of newspapers into Scotland 
has been attributed to Oliver Cromwell. 

The stirring events of the American Revo- 
lution in like manner gave a great impulse to 
printing ; but that took the form of pamph- 
lets and circulars more than that of the peri- 
odical press. The event made the press free, 
and it began a new career ; but the habits of 
the people had not been overcome, nor were 
the means of popularizing the press yet in 
existence. Nevertheless, politics became the 
staple of newspapers, which were started in 
most sections as the organs of parties and to 
support candidates for otlice ; as a matter of 
course these were read mostly by those mIio 
were of the same way of thinking. The cir- 
culation could never reach a point that would 
make it profitable of itself, because the limit 
was the ])ower of the press to work the papers. 
In the great cities the chief support of the 
press was the advertising patronage, bestow- 
ed in some degree in the light of political 
support. The foreign news and domestic 
items of intelligence made up the general 
interests, with ship news, that began after the 
Avar of 1812 to have a more extended char- 



acter. These papers, published at $10 per 
annum, did not much interest the mass of 
people, beyond whose reach the price for the 
most part placed them ; advertising patron- 
age and government "pap" were therefore 
tlie sources looked to for profit. These pa- 
pers were seldom left in families, but were 
caiTied home by those who took them at 
their places of business. The papers of the 
e:u'ly part of the century were very meagre 
The oldest existing papers of New York are 
the Commercial ^Irf^'cr/Zscr, founded in 1797, 
and the Eveniny Post, in 1801. The rival- 
ry among the papers of the day was not so 
nuich to interest the general reading public, 
as to conciliate those commercial interests on 
the patronage of which the means of the paper 
mostly depended. The Commercial Gazette, 
of New York, became a leading journal 
through the enterprise of its editor in col- 
lecting ship news. lie himself rowed a boat, 
boarding vessels coming up the bay, to col- 
lect reports with which he enriched his col- 
umns. Other papers soon followed his ex- 
amj)le. In 1827, the New York Journal of 
Commerce was started, chiefly by Arthur 
Tappaii, Esq., of Boston, and David Ilale, 
then an auctioneer in lioston, was made joint 
editor with Mr. Ilallock, of New Haven. 
About the same time, two papers were uni- 
ted in the Neiu York Courier and Enquirer^ 
under James Watson Webb. These two 
papers employed ncw"s schooners to furnish 
ship news at great expense. This enterprise 
was promotetl by the introduction of a Na- 
pier press, which allowed of an increased cir- 
culation of larger sized papers, and these 
became tilled with advertising as the specu- 
lative years that exploded with 1837 came 
on. The success of these two rival papers, 
was fatal to the other old papers. The Mer- 
cantile Advertiser, by Butler ; the Daily Ad- 
vertiser, by Dwight and Townsend, and the 
Commercial Gazette, by Lang, which had long 
flourished, died out. Severid other papers 
followed, among which was the New York 
American, an evening paper, edited by Chas. 
King, Es(i. At that period cheap news- 
papers, fast presses, telegraph and exjjress 
companies made their appearance all to- 
gether, to work out by mutual aid the mar- 
vels that we have since witnessed. The 
first jienny paper was published by Benja- 
min II. Day, in 1833. It was about ten 
inches square, and sold for one cent, or to 
newsboys for sixty-two and a half cents per 
hundred. It was without editorials, but Avas 



NMCWSrATKUS DAILIKS — WKKKLIKS I'KUIODICALS. 



303 



filled with news items. It grew ra])i(lly to 
a large cireulation, ami acquiring advertise- 
niont'^, swelled into a larger .sheet, whii^h got 
into the hands of Mr, iieaeh. Mr. M. Y. 
IJeach and Ins son, Mr. M. S. Beach, con- 
ducted it almost entirely as a local paper, 
with no particular political charact;'r, but 
with a very largo circulation (r)i»,( OO to 
70,000) up to 18(37. JMr. M. Y. Beach was 
famous for having "many irons in the lire" 
at the same time, and besides the Sun, had 
a manufactory, two banks, and sundry other 
enterprises on f()ot. During an<l after the 
war, the cinndation of the Sun had decreased, 
(its price being advancecl to two cents as 
tliat of the other morning pafH-rs had been 
to four) and in 18G7 it hail ouly about 18,000 
purchasers. A company of capitalists and 
literary men, among whom were INIr. Chas. 
A. Dana, jireviously of the Nno York Tri- 
bune and the Ohintcjo R'piih'icnn, Mr. M. 
S. Beach. Mr. Hitchcock, fornnnly of the 
N^eiP Ji'msnlfm M'ssencfrr, ]\[r. I. W. Eng- 
land, and others, in 18()7 purehasiMl the Sun 
and the old Tauim luy IIoU'l, and litting up 
the latter in Hue s yle, removed the paper 
to its new tpiarter>, and very gi'eatly cliang- 
ed its character. Its circulation fell off to 35,- 
000, and then began to ri<c till it exceeded 
one hundrecl thou-and, and his maintained 
itself at about that point for more than a 
year past. It has now a large e(lih:)rial 
corps, an I in all its apjiointments is p(;rliaps 
the mo-t complete newspaper othco in the 
world. In our illustrations we have pre- 
sented some of the ap[)liances by means of 
which the edition of a hundred tliousand 
copies, admirably printed, are Hung off, in 
the space of a little more than three hours 
each morning. 

But to n^turn to our history of newspapers. 
In 18.'5.^, dames fjordon Bciunett, previously 
one of the editorial staff of the Cunn'er and 
Enquirer, start<'d tlie New York Herald, on 
a capital of SJOO, but with a most indom- 
itable eiKMgy. His first week's expen.ses 
were $.36. At the end of thirty seven years 
they are from $20.0()() to $;{ii,()()0 per week. 
Tlie price of the paper at first was one cent 
per copy. It was advanced soon to two 
cent.s, and during the war to four, at which 
j)ri''e it has since remained. The circulation 
of the ])aper increased rapidly but steadily, 
till it reached 70,000 to 80,000 copies, oc- 
casionally going even higher than this. The 
sheet has been repeatedly enlarged, and is 



now a very large double sheet with frequent 
supjdement.s, making it triple or quadruple. 
It has never had any great jiolitical influ- 
ence, its aim being to keep on tin; po[)ular 
siilti, which(!ver that might I)e, and its edito- 
rial columns have not indicated any remarka- 
ble; ability ; but it has been very enterpris- 
ing its market and financial reports, its vast 
and varied c.orres|)ondence from all parts of 
the world, and its very full and gtiuerally 
accurate n^ports of j)ublic meetings of all 
sorts, speeches, leclurt>s, adilresses, and ser- 
mons, have been features which have ensured 
it a great circulation. It would have been 
impossi!)le, however, for it to have attaiuc^d 
this, had not the improvements in printing 
machines made it possible to multiply copies 
at the rat(! of 25,000 to 30,000 per hour. 
Soon after the war commenced, the Herald, 
followed speedily by the other morning pa- 
pers, resorted to the plan of stereotyping the 
pages of its daily issue, in order to nudtiply 
them more easily. This could not have been 
done by the old stereotyping process with 
suilicient rapidity to be of any .service, but 
a method of stereotyping by means o^ papier 
niac/ie, or a material analagous to it, then 
just inventeil, was rapid enough to answer 
all puri)Oses, and with this and Hoe's ten 
cyliiuler printing machine, the proprietor of 
the Ifi'tald coidil j)i int fast enough for liis 
daily edition. Mr. Bennett died June 1,1872. 
The Now York Tribune was issued for 
the first time in 1841. Horace Greeley, its 
editor and first proprietor had come to New 
York in 1 8.'51 as a printer, and had developed 
remarkable talent as an editor, and political 
writer He had proji^cted several papers, 
some of them campaign i)apers of very large 
circulation ; for three or four years previous 
he, had iieen editing the Now Yorker, a very 
good but not a ])rotilable jiajn'r. He started 
the Tribune with $1,0(10, mostly borrowed 
money. In the thirty-one yean; since that 
time, the paper has become a g'-eat j)ower 
in the nation. It has always been edited 
with ability, aiid has been for about half 
that time owned by a joint stock association, 
but Mr, Greeley has bet'U its chief editor 
and master spirit. Always an active ])oliti- 
cian, first a Whig and afterwards a Republi- 
can, he has made it from first to last a po- 
litical paper ; and though at times differing 
decidedly in opinion from his associates in 
the party, its editor has always bi-en rec- 
ognized as one of its most valued leaders. 



304 



NEWSPAPERS DAILIES — WEEKLIES -"TCRIODICALS. 



He has recently (in May, 1872) been nom- 
inated for the Presidency by a convention 
held at Cincinnati, and tlie nomination ad- 
vocated by promijient men of both political 
parties, and has in consequence withdrawn 
for the present from the editorial manage- 
ment of his paper. The circulation of the 
Daily Tribune is not so large as that of the 
Swn or the Herald, though greater than that 
of any other morning paper ; but the cir- 
culation of the Weekly Tribune is vastly 
greater than that of any other political 
weekly in the United States — reaching in 
some years 22o,OU0 copies weekly. A semi- 
weekly edition is also printed. 

The New York Times was founded in 
1850, by Henry J. Raymond, who had jM'e- 
vlously been a writer on the staff of the 
Tribune and the Courier and Enquirer. It 
was some time in attaining to a profitable 
success, but for eighteen or nineteen years 
past has been one of the leading dailies of 
New York City. During Mr. Raymond's 
life time it was edited with marked ability, 
but since his death in 18Gi), has hardly main- 
tained its old rejjutation. 

Tlie World, founded in 18G0, by an Asso- 
ciation with a large capital, as a Re2)ublican 
and religions daily paper, met with several 
changes in the course of the next two years, 
and in 18G2 became a Democratic paper, in 
which faith it has since continued. It is 
very ably edited and has a circulation nearly 
as large as that of the Times — about 3o,000 
of its daily edition. 

Of the later ventures in the way of morn- 
ing papers, in New York City, only the 
Star has achieved any consideraljle success. 
It has takeii rank with the older dailies, 
though it would be dilficuli to say why it 
should have done so. 

Several of the low priced evening papers 
have been successful. The Telegram, owned 
and controlled l)y the sou of the proprietor 
of the Herald; the News, the Witness, a daily 
religious paper of decided al>ility, the Express, 
and the Ecening Mail have each a circu- 
lation ranging from 10,00') to 2o,000. 

Of course noiie of these papers are sup- 
ported by their .'■ubscription lists or their 
circulatiitn. In the case of the larger sheets 
this would hardly suHice to j)ay for the pa- 
per on which th-y are printed, but these 
extended circulations make them very valu- 
able as advertising mediums, anil they de- 
rive so princely a revenue from their adver- 



tisemeiits, th.;t in favorable years tiie net 
income from the Herald and the Tribune has 
reached $200,000 or $250,000 per annum, 
and that of tlie Times and the World has 
exceeded $100,000 each. The Staats Zei- 
iung, (State Gazette) a German daily paper, 
has a circulation inferior probably only to 
those of the Herald and Sim. The Ecening 
Post, Cummei cial Advertiser, etc., though 
printed as f dios, and not as quarto sheets, 
have a very large advertising patronage, 
mostly from the shipping and wholesale mer- 
chants, bitok publishers, etc. The adver- 
tisements in the morning papers are, to a 
large extent, fresh advertisements daily, re- 
ceived and paid for the previous day. Those 
of the evening papers are, many of them, 
les-i frequently changed. The advertisements 
of the morning j)apers belong to the day on 
which they appear, and compo-e a part of 
the life a- id the news thereof, like any 
other matter in the paper — to many people 
more interesting and more imporant. No 
portion of a great metropolitan jnurnal, then, 
is dead matter ; even the advertising col- 
umns, which many suppose to be dull and 
tedious, are full of life and interest, and fresh 
every day. It is amusing to contract such 
a ]iaper with the Philadelphia Gazette of 
1750, then conducted by Benjainin Frank- 
lin. It^ dimensions are about eight by ten. 
The news an 1 reading matter which it con- 
tains, could all be put i:ito one of the pages 
of this book. It has nut a single line of edi- 
torial. Its latest foreign news was about 
three or four months old. Its domestic news 
principally related to the Indians. Among 
its advertisements were several notices of 
the sale of negroes in Pennsylvania. The 
progress of the newspaper art is well illus- 
trated by comparing this sheet with those 
issued in our large cities at the present day. 
At first the extension of this circulation 
of the city newspapers was greatly facilita- 
ted by the expresses which re eived the 
packagf^s as they came from the press for 
the larger towns and cities, and hurried ibem 
out to the dealers, liut very soon there was 
found a necessity of an intermediate ag'^ncy 
which could make for itself a vast budness 
while at the same time it saved expense to 
the dealers in other cities, towns and villages, 
and the n(!ws compaides came into existence. 
There had been several houses each with its 
considerable circle of customers, which dis- 
patched to their several customers a daily, 



NEWSPAPERS DAILIES WEEKLIES PERIODICALS- 



SOS 



tri-weekly. or semi-weekly package of the 1 
literary papers and periodicals, together with 
such liooks and stationery as niiglit be sent 
in to them to pack. Most of tlicse dealers 
in New York City united and formed the 
American News Company, which soon sup- 
plied its customers with all that they required 
from its own vast stock, and giving its or- 
ders daily for such quantities of the daily 
papers as it required for its customers, hur- 
ried these to its broad shelves, packed them 
with the other goods ordered, and sent them 
in quantities of.en of many tons by the morn- 
ing trains and expresses, with all of which 
it had arrangements, to its thousands of cus- 
tomei-s in all directions. Its business grew 
till it took from 250,000 to 3iiO,000 copies 
of Bonner's Ledger and half as many of 
some of the other popular literary and illus- 
trated papers, 30,000 or 40,0* '0 copies of 
tiie Independent, and enormous quantities of 
the Sunday papers, whole editions of popu- 
lar books and pamphlets, 90,'i00 or 100,000 
of Harper's Mouthlt/, etc., etc. In process 
of time, other news companies were organ- 
ized in New York, and a gigantic one at 
Cliicago, and the business was divided to 
some extent, but the American News Co. 
has still a vast business. An attempt was 
made a few years ago to furnish the New 
York morning papers at the breakfast hour 
to all customi'rs on railroad routes within a 
radius of two hundred miles or more around 
the city. This was accomi)lished by arrang- 
ing a special express train to start out on 
each road at about two o'clock each morn- 
ing, taking all the papers which were printed 
up to tliat time, diiving with all speed to 
the ra Iroad, thi'owing them on the train and 
making up the i)ackages on board, throwing 
them out at each point to an agent as the 
train shot by, till the farthest limit of morn- 
ing distribution was reached. The plan 
proved practicable, but too expensive to pay 
at first, and it was dropped. 

The sale of papers at the steamboats and 
in the cars has become a large business, and 
the privilege of doing so is now farmed out 
by the companies. Tlie privilege is paid 
for at rates sometimes as high as !$-),000 per 
annnni on good nmtes, say some of the best 
traveled in New York. The dealer employs 
boys wlio start with the out trains in the 
morning, sup|)lying all who go. These trains 
meet otliers, in an hour's ride, coming in. 
Idled iiut only with passengers from a dis- 



tance, but with persons who, doing business 
in the city, comnuite on the road, and come 
in every day ; all of them are anxious for the 
papers, and they are sold at a large advance 
on the cost ; the four cent papers usually at 
from five to ten cents; ihe seven cent pa- 
pers at ten or twelve, and the two cent pa- 
pers at three to five cents, thus yielding the 
vendor a handsome profit. 

Tlie Sunday ])ress has become a feature in 
New York within twenty years. The first 
Sunday jiaper was the Sunday Morning 
Neics, published in 1835, by Samuel Jenks 
Smith. It had a considerable success, but 
stopi)ed on the death of Mr. Smith. In 
1840, the Adas was started by Ilerrick, 
Ropes & West. The last-named had been a 
reporter on the Herald. The paper had a 
great success, and is still flourish ng. The 
Sunday Mercury was next started, and re- 
ceived a great impulse from the '* Patent 
Sermons " of Dow, jr. Then followed the 
Sundcy Times, the Dispatch, and others, 
which have attained much success. 

The circulation of the New York dailies 
is now (1872^ more than 500,<»ii() copies, 
against 10,000 in 18oo. In 1865, there 
were 307 newspapers and periodicals pub- 
lished in the city of New York (673 in the 
state) of which 21 were dailies, with an ag- 
gregate circulation of 425,000 copies daily, 
8 semi-weekly with a reported circulation of 
about 75,<M)0; 223 weekly of which 42 had 
an aggregate circulation of 1, 587,51 lO; 11 
semi-montlily and 118 monthly; 11 of the 
monthlies reported a circulation in the ag- 
gregate of 337,000. These returns are so 
incomplete as to be of very little value, and 
those of the census of 1870 which give the 
aggregate of the newspajiers published in 
the state at 41)2,770,868 fur the year are 
very far below the truth. It is certain that 
more than 875,000,000 newspapers are 
))riuted in New Y''ork City every year, aside 
from magazines, reviews, and quarterly pe- 
riodicals. 

The weekly papers are of several classes. 
Those devoted to light literature have the 
largest circulation. Bonner's Neio York 
Ledger leads in this class, maintaining a 
weekly circulation (mainly through the 
American News Co., and a large subscrij)tion 
list) of about 400,000 copies. Street Sf 
Smith's Weekly boasts of a circulation of 
about 300,000 ; Harpers' Illustrated Weekly 
from 130,000 to 150,000, and Harpers' 



Sv.6 



NEWSPAPERS — DAILIES — WEEKLIES — PERIODICALS. 



Bnzar nearly 100,000 ; the Mercury, Frank 
Leslie's 1 Instrat'd Paper, the Fireside Com- 
panion, the Chimney Corner, and Moore's 
Rural New Yorker, range from 75,0(tO to 
100,000, and the number of jiapers of this 
dass. i-anging from 40,000 to 70,000 is large. 

The religious papers have also attained a 
large circulation within a few years past. 
The Christian Union now takes the lead 
with a circulation of about 100,0(tO; the 
Independimt comes next with nearly 75,000 ; 
Avhile the Observer, Examiner and Chronicle, 
Fvanyrlisf, Advocate, Metropolitan Record, 
and Methodist, range between 2o,0u0 and 
50.000 each. 

There are also several scientific and mis- 
cellaneous journals, such as the Scientijic 
American, Hearth and Home, Railroad Jour- 
nal, etc., etc., which have a large clientage 
ranging from 2-3,000 to 50,000. 

In other cities there are also some in- 
stances of great success. The Ledger of 
Pliilailelphia ha>5 a daily circulat'on as large 
or larger than that of the Sun, but no other 
daily in that city exceeds 30,000. The Sat- 
urday Night, a weekly literary paper, has a 
circulation of over 2(J0,000, but none of the 
other literary j^apers of that city exceed 
100,000. 

Of daily papers in other cities, the Tri- 
hune and the Times, both of Chicago, the 
Journal, the Traveller and the Transcript of 
Boston, the Commercial, the Gazette, the 
Chronicle, and the Enquirer of Cincinnati, 
the Republiccm and the Democrat of St. 
Louis, the American and the Gazette of Bal- 
timore, the Courier-Journal of Louisville, 
and the Republican of Springfield, Mass., 
are those of largest circulation. Some of 
the political weeklies of other cities have a 
very large circulation. The Toledo Blade, 
Toledo, Ohio, has a circulation ranging from 
80,000 to 100,000, and Pommy's Democrat, 
before its removal to New York, luul about 
100,000. All the papers of large circnlation 
which depend to any extent upon their sub- 
scription lists, use fohling machines and di- 
recting machines which save a vast amount 
of hand lul)or. 

The following statistics of American Jour- 
nalism, drawn from the census of 1870, will 
interest all our r(?aders. The whole number 
of newsi)ai)ers and j)eriodicals in the United 
States, is 5,8 1.^, to which are to be added 
73 for the Territories, 353 more are printed 
in the Dominion of Canada, and 29 in the 



other Briti-h Colonies, making a total for 
the United States and British America of 
6,300 periodicals. Of those published in 
the United States, there are : 



Daily, 574 

Triweekly, 107 

Semi-weekly, 115 

Weekly, 4,270 



Semi-monthly, 96 

Jlonthly, 621 

IM-Dionthly, 13 

Quarterly, 49 



Total, 5,845 

Of this immense aggregate, 79 papers, 
ranging from weekly to quarterly, are pub- 
lished only for advertisintr purposes. Sub- 
tracting these as not fairly to be counted 
among the publications which illustrate the 
journalistic enterprise of the nation, we have 
5,766 newspapers and jieriodicals in the 
country — an average of one to about 6,500 
of the population. The whole number is 
distributed among various interests as fol- 
lows ; 

Political, 4,328 

Agriculture and Horticulture, 93 

IJeiievolent and Secret Societies, 81 

Commercial and Financial 122 

I Uustrated, Literary, and Miscellaneous, 502 

Specially devoted to Nationality,. ... 30 

Technical and Professional, 207 

Religious, 407 

Sportiug, 6 

The political papers are divided into 
S,560 weekly, 552 daily, 101 tri-vveekly, 100 
semi-weekly, 8 semi-monthly, and 6 monthly. 
The religious papers are divided as follows : 
Weekly, 208 ; semi-monthly, 40 ; monthly, 
141 ; bi-monthly, 1 ; quarterly, 17. There 
are three daily scientific or professional 
newspajjers ; the remainder, 204, range from 
weekly to quarterly, there being 130 month- 
ly. The literary and illustrated papers run 
the entire gamut, from 8 daily to 7 quarterly, 
with 303 weekly and 157 monthly. There 
are 8 daily commercial or financial papers, 
56 weekly and 40 monthly. Agricultural 
papers : weekly, 35 ; semi-monthly, 2 ; 
monthly, 56. Of the "sporting" jmpers, 5 
are weekly and 1 monthly. 

Turning to the vital question of circulation, 
we find the facts of special interest, and can 
best exhibit them, perhaps, by the following 
table, in which we give the number of each 
class with the aggregate and average circula- 
tion : 



No. 

Politic.ll 4,328 

Agricultural, 93 

Societies, 81 

Financial, 122 

Literary , 502 

National, 20 

Scientific or Professional, 207 

lleligious, 407 

Sporting, 6 



Circulation. Average. 

8,7T8.320 2,0:;8 

710,752 8,072 

257,080 3,173 

C90.2O0 5,057 

4,421,935 8,808 

45,150 2,1:57 

744.531 3,59(5 

4, 7(54 ,.358 11,706 

73,500 12,250 



INTERIOR VIEW OF THE N. Y. SUN PRINTIN(; KSTABLISHMKXT. 




i:iii i(ii;i \i, i;iii)M. 




C.lMIMiSIMi i;i)i).\l — M.iil.N.. 11' IVl'K. 




' ^«QV,^-C 



PRESS ROOM. 




//^'# I'ilf, fi^ 



^ -1 > ^ 

STERKOTYPJNG KOOil. 



NEWSrAPEUS — DAILIES WEEKLIES — I'EUIODICALS. 



307 



The aggiegate circulation of daily pa- 
pers in the United States is 2,606, ")47 ; 
average eirciilation, 4.o41. The weekly 
paper- cireiilate 10,591,743 copies, with an 
average of 2, i80. 

The total aiuinal circulation of newspapers 
ju-intcd in the State of New York is 41)2,- 
770,868 copies, being more than twice the 
number issued in any other State. The next 
greatest number of issues is in Pennsylva- 
nia, where 2Sy,.')S().n32 co|)ies are annually 
printed. Mass: chusetts prints 107,()0 1,952 
copies, Illinois 102,686,204, Ohio, 93,592,- 



448. Next comes California, with 45,869,- 
408 newspaper sheets per annum. 

The following table shows the average 
circulation of newspaj)ers and periodicals in 
each S ate and Territory, and the Colonies 
of British America ; the total ammal circula- 
tion, and the average number of copies 
printed yearly for each inhabitant. This 
is not a sure indication of the rehitive num- 
ber of readers in each State, as the leading 
papers in large cities are largily circulated 
outside the State where printed : 



states, Tcn-itoric.'i, &c. Average Circulation. 

Alabama, 1,070 

Arkansas 6.50 

Calit'ornia, 1,846 

Connecticut, 3,000 

Delaware, 1,247 

] Ustriet of Columbia, 4,323 

Florida 616 

Georgia, 1 ,270 

Illinois 2,907 

Indiana, 1 ,490 

Iowa 1 ,01 3 

Kansas, 1 ,828 

Kentuckv, 1 ,968 

1/misiana, 1,220 

Maine 2,2.')7 

iM.u-yland 2,077 

^Massachusetts 5,709 

IMichi<i-an, 1 ,6.54 

Minnesota, 1,121 

Mississippi, 753 

Missouri 2,104 

NclM-aska 913 

IS'evada 516 

New Hampshire, 2,194 

New -lerscy, 1 ,475 

New York, 7,41 1 

North Carolina, 814 

( )liio 3,1 54 

( )re^'-on 1 ..352 

Pennsylvania, 3,704 

Wiode Island, 2,489 

^outh Carolina 1 ,.354 

Tennessee, 1 ,747 

Texas 701 

Vermont, 2,528 

Virginia 1,107 

"West Virginia, 842 

Wisconsin 1,317 

Territories 85S 

New JJrnnswick, 1 )ominion of Canada, 1 ,750 

Nova Scotia, Dominion of Canada, 1,334 

Ontario, Dominion of Canada ; . . . 1,897 

Queb(!C, Dominion ot Canada, 1 ,409 

British Colonies, 640 

Total Average, 1 ,842 





Average No. of 


Totdl Annual 


copie.s printed ye:'.rly 


Circulation. 


for each Inhabitaut. 


8,891,432 


9 


2,438,716 


5 


45,869,408 


82 


15,097,320 


29 


1,. 596,480 


13 


11,637,400 


89 


841,880 


5 


14,447,388 


12 


102,086,204 


41 


28,515,862 


17 


19,344,636 


16 


12,465,768 


35 


17,.392,044 


13 


14,028,023 


20 


9,082,596 


14 


19,461,660 


25 


107,091,952 


74 


17 513,120 


15 


2,811,120 


7 


4,403,460 


5 


37,737,564 


22 


3,147,120 


27 


1,714,900 


40 


5,711,720 


18 


19,766,104 


22 


492,770,808 


113 


4,220,076 


4 


93,592,443 


35 


3,658.304 


40 


233,380,532 


€7 


10,048,048 


46 


5,804,136 


8 


15,712,236 


13 


5,813,432 


7 


4,486.9 !4 


14 


13,790,788 


12 


3,372,068 


8 


20,577,390 


20 


3,829,121 


13 


3,961,808 


12 


3,8.!8,784 


10 


33,757,528 


17 


21,812,560 


16 


1,499,922,219 


35 



TELEGMPIIS-THEIR ORIGIN AND PROGRESS. 



CHAPTER I. 

TELEGRAPHS— THEIR ORIGIN AND PROGRESS. 
" Canst thou send lightnings that tliey may go, and say 
unto thee, ' Here we are '? " — Job. 

The invention and use of electric tele- 
graphs are among the most important of 
modern improvements ; and it is somewhat 
remarkable tliat tlie invention justifies the 
trite observation, that great inventions are 
made always at the moment they are wanted. 
Telegraphs have been used from the re- 
motest antiquity, by signals of various kinds ; 
and one by flags, to signal the arrival of 
vessels below, has been used during the pres- 
ent century in Boston ; and, in New York, 
one operating by arms has been used for 
the same purpose from the Narrows to the 
roof of the Merchants' Exchange in New 
York. The electric telegraph applied light- 
ning to intelligence as steam was applied to 
motion, and came into being to exceed, by 
its rapidity of intelligence, the means just 
invented to convey more rapidly by rail. 
Indeed its action is necessary to the latter, 
since it would be very difficult to operate 
long lines of railroad, like the New York 
YA-'ie, and Central, without the aid of the 
electric telegrajjh. The patent of Morse, 
•who invented the first practical recording 
telegraph, was taken out in the year 1840; 
since then, niunerous modes of recording have 
been invented, and improvements adopted, 
and there are now many systems in use, 
although the Morse telegraph in its various 
modifications, is generally employed in all 
l)arts of the world for the general business 
of telegrapliing. 

It is curious that just ninety years after 
Dr. Franklin identiticd lightning with elec- 
tricity, by means of his kite, JVIorse should 
liave schooled electricity to send messages 
instantaneously over wire at great distances. 
AVe say instantaneously, because the ascer- 
tained speed of electricity over wires with- 
out resistance is 288,000 miles per second, 
which is scarcely perceptible, although at that 



rate it would take six minutes to send a 
despatch to the sun. 

This all-pervading element manifests it- 
self in countless ways — in the sparkling of 
animal hair ; in the rustling of silk, which 
" betrays your poor heart to woman ;" in 
the aurora that illumines the North ; in the 
meteor that startles the astonished observer ; 
it flashes in the lightning bolt that rives the 
oak, without, while it gently penetrates into 
the lady's parlor and fills her form, as she 
glides over her warm, thick carpet, until the 
metal tube of the gas burner Avill attract 
enough from her fingers to ignite the gas, or 
from her lips to startle a newly-entered 
friend. It will also convey to her the thoughts 
of distant minds with more than the assiduity 
of Puck, by means of the invention of 
Morse. 

Professor Morse was not the discoverer of 
the analogy between magnetism and elec- 
tricity, but he was the first who made prac- 
ticable all former discoveries and improve- 
ments in the production of a recording 
telegraph. The three leading properties of 
electricity that make telegraphs possible, are, 
first, its constant desire to seek an equilib- 
rium, always going where there is less ; 
second, that the production of electricity is 
always in two fluids, called positive and 
negative, which possess a mutual attraction 
for each other ; third, that different substan- 
ces have very different conducting powers — 
over some it passes with the utmost freedom, 
while over others it will scarcely pass at all. 
On this depends the possibility of telegraph- 
ing, since by it the current of electricity may 
be arrested or conveyed at the will of the 
operator. Mr. William .Sturgeon of Lon- 
don, discovered in 1^2.') that when a bar 
of soft iron was placed within a coil of con- 
duciing wires it was rendered magnetic, and 
and wt)uld so remain as long as the current 
of eku^tricity passed through the wires. The 
telegraph consists in connecting twoof lliese 
magnets by a wire of any number of mile^ 



-^ 





iy^^^^rr?. 



' " '3. y^rv'/r. 



TELEGRAPHS TIIKIU ORIGIN AND PKOGRESS. 



509 



in lengt'i, and directing thi'ough it a current 
from an electric battery. By cutting ort" 
the current, the iron becomes alternately 
charged and at rest with great rapidity. To 
form the current, it is necessary that the 
wire should form a circuit, or that each end 
of the wire should communicate with the 
groinid. The interruiuion is caused by 
stopping this communication. The first 
telegraph invented by Professor ^lorse con- 
sisted of an electro-magnet, formed by bend- 
ing a small rod of iron in the form of a 
horse-shoe, upon which w-as wound a few 
yards of copper wire insulated with cotton 
thread. This magnet was then placed upon 
the middle of a painter's s' retching frame 
for canvass, the bottom of which was nailed 
to the edge of a common table. Across the 
lower part of the frame was constructed a 
narrow trough to hold three narrow cylin- 
der of wood. A wooden clock was placed 
at one end of this trough. The cylinder 
next to the clock had a small pulley-wheel 
fixed upon its prolonged axis, outside the 
trough ; a snuilar pulley-wheel was fixed 
ujion the prolonged axis of one of the slower 
w heels of the train of wheels outside the 
clock ; these two pulleywdieels w'ere con- 
nected ];y an endless cord or band. Upon 
the cylinder farthest from the clock was 
wound a ribbon of paper, which, when the 
clock train was put in motion was gradually 
unrolled and passing over the middle cylin- 
der was rolled up upon the cylinder nearest 
the clock by means of the cord and pulleys. 
xVn A shaped pendulum was suspended 
Ity its apex from the centre of the top of 
the fi-ame. directly above the centre of the 
middle (-ylinder in the trough below\ This 
lever was made of two thin rules of wood 
meeting at the top but opening downwards 
altout one inch apart and joined at the bot- 
tom by a transverse bar (which was close to 
the paper as it moved over the mid<lle cylin- 
der,) and another about one inch above it. 
I Through the centre of these two bars a 
small tube was fixed through which a pencil 
loosely played. The pencil liad a small 
weight upon its top to keep the point in con- 
stant contact with the paper ribl)on. Upon 
the lever directly opposite to tlie poles of 
the electro-magnet was fastened the arma- 
ture of the magnet or a small bar of soft 
iron. The movement of the lever was 
guided by stops on the frame at the sides 
of the lever, ])ermitting it only a movement 
forward to and back from the magnet ; the 



pencil at the bottom of the lever was thus 
allowed to advance when the magnet was 
charged and to reireat when discharo-ed, 
about one eighth of an inch. The lever ad- 
vanced by the attraction of the magnet and 
was retracted by a weight or spring. 

The voltaic battery or generator of elec- 
tricity was connected by one of its poles to 
one of the helices of the magnet while the 
other pole was connected with a mercury 
cup ; and a conjunctive wire connected a 
second mercury cup to the other lielix of 
the magiu't. The circuit was closed by dip- 
ping a forked wire into the two cups of mer- 
cury, when the magnet became charged, the 
armature was attracted, and the lever drawn 
toward the magnet. When the forked wire 
W'as removed the magnet was discharged 
and the spring brought back the lever to its 
normal position. When the clock w'ork 
was put in motion the ribbon of paper was 
drawn over the middle cylinder and the 
pencil attached to the lever being in con- 
stant contact with the ribbon of pajier traced 
a continuous line lengthwise with the riljbon. 

The pathway of the pencil point, when 
the lever was attracted towards and held by 
the magnet for a longer or shorter time, 
contains the three elements of points, spaces 
and lines, forming by their various combi- 
nations, the various conventional characters 
for numerals and letters. 

Professor Morse subsequently modified 
the form of his telegrajih, although the prin- 
ciple upon which its action dej)ended re- 
mained substantially the same. In place of 
the w^ooden cylinders operated b}' a wooden 
clock for carrying the paper liand at a regu- 
lar rate, he employed small brass rollers 
moved by means of mechanism analagous to 
clock-work ; and instead of the armature 
being attached to a wooden pcnflulum 
which vibrated over the jjaper, he attached 
it to one end of a brass lever sustaiiu'd in a 
horizontal position by two pivots, the other 
end of the lever being armed with a 
steel point. Under the soft iron arma;u"e 
at one end of the lever was placed an 
electro-magnet, while the steel point at 
the other end of the lever, was beneath the 
roller which carried the band of paper. 
Now when the circuit is closed — that is 
completed — the armature of the electro- 
magnet is attracted through theinagnetism 
created in the helix by the passage of the 
electric current, and this attraction causes 
the point of the pen to touch the paper and 



31-0 



TELEGRAPHS — THEIR ORIGIN AND PROGRESS. 



to trace upon it a line the length of which 
flepemls upon the duration of time in which 
the circuit remains whole. If the circuit is 
opened the current ceases to tlow, the mag- 
netism disappears instantly and a spring at- 
ticUed to the lever draws it away from the 
paper and the line ceases. By opening and 
closinp" tlie circuit rapidly dots are produced 
upon the paper the number of which de- 
pends upon the number of times that the 
circuit is broken and closed. If the circuit 
is closed for a longer time a dash or a short 
line is made upon the paper. We have thus 
the combinations of an alphabet of dots and 
lines. Thus a is a dot and a dash, h a dash 
and three dots, &c. The alphabet is so ar- 
ranged that those letters occurring most fre- 
quently are more easily transmitted ; thus e 
is one dot ; t one dash. An expert operator 
can transmit from thirty to forty words a 
minute by this instrument on a land line of 
20i) or 300 miles in length. 

Tlie transmitting apparatus is very simple, 
being designed only for the opening and 
closino- of the circuit in a manner more easy 
than by holding the ends of the wire in the 
hands, as is done where there is no appara- 
tus. The two ends of wire are separated 
i;y two pieces of metal, one of which is a 
Ijrass lever surmounted by an ivory button, 
and the other is a brass anvil tipped with 
platin'mi. The brass lever is mounted upon 
pivots, in front of the axis of which is sol- 
dered a nipple of platinum, which by the 
depression of the lever comes in contact 
with the platinum tipped anvil, and thus 
closes the circuit. 

To the Morse system at a later period, 
was added the " sounder," a simple contri- 
vance, by which signals are conveyed by 
sound. Up to 1850 the operator read the dis- 
patch from slips of paper to the copyist, who 
wrote it down. It was soon found, however, 
that the despatch coidd be read by the 
" click " of the instruments, and the opera- 
tor now copies, himself, from sound. 

Several modifications of the Morse tele- 
graph have been made, the principal of 
which is to substitute ink marking for em- 
bossing. The Morse telegraph in its various 
m xlifications is now used almost exclusively 
througliout the world. 

The numl)ei' of inventions connected with 
the electric telegraph is almost endless, and 
would engross a long series of volumes for 
their description ; but the only system at 
present in use for general telegraphic com- 



munication in the United States, besides the 
Morse, is the letter printing telegraph, in- 
vented by Mr. G. M. Phelps, and tliis in- 
strument is only used in four out of the six 
thousand telegraphic stations in the United 
States. 

Professor Morse had no sooner shown 
that a telegraph could be constructed through 
the aid of electricity than his attention was 
turned to the discovery of some insulating 
substance by means of which the wires 
could be enveloped and buried in the earth, 
it not being deemed practicable to place 
them in the open air. Tarred yarn satu- 
rated with a preparation of asphaltum, was 
among the first insidating materials used for 
this purpose, and the lines constructed in 
1843 were covered with this substance, and 
buried in the earth. This insulation proved 
so faulty, however, that it was at once aban- 
doned, and the wires were insidated with 
glass upon poles in the open air. Still if 
It was decided to relinquish the idea of 
building subterranean lines, the fact was 
apparent that some good insulating material 
must be found which would permit the sub- 
mergence of the wires across straits or navi- 
gable rivers. Various substances were tried 
to accomplish this result, but nothing satis- 
factory was obtained until the discovery of 
gutta percha, which proved to be one of the 
most perfect insulators.known,and admirably 
adapted by its plastic and flexible qualities 
for the insulation of submarine wires. 

In 1850 the first electric cable was laid 
in the open sea between England and France. 
This cable consisted of a solid copper wire, 
covered with gutta percha. The landing 
place in France was Cape Grissiez,from which 
place a few messages passed sufficient to test 
the accuracy of the principle. The commu- 
nication thus established between the conti- 
nent and England was, after a few hours, 
abruptly stopped. A diligent fisherman, ply- 
ing his vocation, took up part of the cable in 
his trawl and cut off a piece which he brought 
in triumph to Boulogne, where he exhil)ited 
it as a specimen of rare sea- weed, with its 
centre filled with gold. It is believed that 
this piscator ignnhilis returned again and 
again to search for further specimens of this 
treasure of the deep. It is, at all events, 
perfectly certain that he succeeded in de- 
stroying the submarine cable. 

This accident caused the attention of 
scientific men to be directed to the discovery 
of some mode of preserving submarine cables 



TELEGRAPHS — THEIR ORIGIN AND PROGRESS. 



311 



I 



from similar casualties, and it was decided, 
that the wire insulated by gutta percha 
should form a core or centre to a wire roj^e, 
so as to give protection to it during the pro- 
cess of paying out and laying down, as well 
as to guard it from rocks and the anchors 
of vessels. 

In 1851 a cable protected in this manner 
was laid between Dover and Calais, where 



Amongst the most important submarine 
lines are those which were laid across the 
Atlantic Ocean in 18G5 and 1866. 

The conductor of these cables consists of 
a copper strand of seven wires, six laid round 
one, and weighing 300 lbs. per mile. 

The insulation consists of four layers of 
gutta percha laid in alternately with four 
thin layers of Chattertou's compound. 





.%:i 





g. 1 is a side elevation of the instrument, showing a section through tlie galvanometer coils, and 
Fig. 2 a cross section showing the magnetic needle. The same letters refer to like parts in both fig- 
iires. A is the magnetic needle attached to thecircular mirror of silvered glass a, which is suspended 
by a thread of cocoon silk in the brass frame B} and adjusted by the screw 6. The frame slides into 
a vertical groove in tlie center of the coil which divides it into two parts. The coil and mirror are 
enclosed in a glass case D, in order to jtrcvent the disturbance of the needle by currents of air. The 
rays from the lamp E pass through the ojiening /', which is adjustable by the slide G, and passing 
through the lens M in the tube iV are reflected by the mirror back through the lens upon an ivory 
scale at / as shown by the dotted lines. The scale is horizontal, extending to the right and left of 
the center of the instrument, the zero point being exactly opposite the lens. The luminous rays of 
light are brought to a sharp focus upon the scale by a sliding adjustment of the lens. 

The operator reads the signals from a point just in the rear of the magnet and coils, the light of 
the lamp being cut off by the screen Y so that he only sees the small luminous slit through which 
the light enters the instrament, and a brilliantly defined image of the slit upon the white ivory scale 
lust above, which is kept in deep shadow by the screen Y. A very minute displacement of the magnet 
gives a very large movement of the ray of itght on the scale /, the angular displacement of the 
ray of light being double that of the needle. 



it has ever since remained in perfect order, 
constituting the great channel of electrical 
communication between England and the 
continent. The success of that form of 
cable having been thus completely estab- 
lished, lines of a similar character were sub- 
sequently laid in all quarters of the world. 



The external protection consists of ten 
steel wires, each wire surrounded separately 
with five strands of tarred Manilla hemp 
and the whole laid spirally rotnid the core, 
which latter is padded with tanned jute 
yarn. Each cable would bear eleven knots 
of itself in water without breaking. 



312 



TELEGRAPHS THEIR ORIGIN AND PROGRESS. 



The deepest water encountered was 2,400 
fathoms, and the distance between Valen- 
tia and Hearts Content 1670 knots. The 
length of the cables of 1865 — 1896 knots; 
1866—1858 knots. 

Tlie battery employed upon the Atlantic 
eables is a modification of Daniell's. 12 
cells are sufficient for signaling. The re- 
ceiving instrument is Thomson's Reflecting 
Galvanometer. This consists of a needle 
formed of a piece of watch spring three- 
eighths of an inch in length. The needle is 
suspended by a thread of cocoon-silk without 
torsion. The needle lies in the centre of 
an exceedingly delicate galvanometer coil. 
A circular mirror of silvered glass is fixed 
to the needle, and reflects at right angles to 
it in the plane of its motion. It is so curved 
that when the light of a lamp is thrown 
through a fine slit on it, the image of the 
slit is reflected on a scale about three feet 
off, placed a little above the front of the 
flame. Deflections to the extent of half an 
inch along any part of the scale ai^e sufficient 
for one signal. In so delicate an instru- 
ment, the sluggish swing of the needle in 
finally settling into any position would de- 
stroy it susefulness. To rectify this, a strong 
magnet, about eight inches long, and bent 
concave to the insti'ument, is made to slide 
up and down a rod placed in the line of the 
suspending thread above the instrument. 
This magnet can be easily shifted as neces- 
sity may require. The oscillations of the 
needle due to itself are, by the aid of the 
strong magnet, made so sudden and short as 
only to broaden the spot of light. The 
delicacy of even this exceedingly delicate 
galvanometer can be immensely increased 
by using an astatic needle. 

The alphabet is made by opposite move- 
ments produced by one or other of two 
Morse keys. The signals need not be made 
from zero as a starting point. The eye 
can easily distinguish, at any point in the 
scale to which the spot of light may be de- 
flected, the beginning and the end of a sig- 
nal, and when its motion is caused by the 
proper action of the needle or by currents. 
It is thus that the mirror galvanometer is 
adapted to cable signaling, not only by its 
extreme delicacy, but also by its quickness. 
The deflections of the spot of light have 
been aptly compared to a handwriting no 
one letter of which is distinctly formed, but 
yet is quite intelligible to the practised eye. 
Signals in this way follow each other with 



wonderful rapidity. A low speed — some 
eight words a nwnute — is adopted for public 
messages ; but when the clerks communicate 
with each other, as high a speed as eighteen 
or twenty words is attained. In fact, it is 
said, that the only limit is the power of 
reading, not transmitting signals. As it is 
the speed of signaling is equal to, if not 
greater than, that attained on any land line 
of the same length, an achievement indica- 
tive of the skill and genius that have been 
directed to Atlantic telegraphy. 

Telegraphic stations must be united by 
one insulated wire, either carried overland, 
or under the sea. The insulation of land 
lines is insured by attaching the wires to in- 
sulators fixed on posts some twenty feet 
high. The posts are placed at distances of 
about sixty yards apart. Insulators are of 
all shapes and many materials. The insu- 
lator most generally used in the United 
States is made of glass, and is supported by 
a wooden pin. The leakage in a long line, 
notwithstanding the best insulation, is con- 
siderable. The loss at each post is msignifi- 
cant, but when hundreds or thousands are 
taken into account it becomes decided ; so 
that in extremely wet weather in some cases 
merely a fraction of the total current that 
sets out reaches the earth at the distant 
station. 

The wire most employed for land lines in 
the United States is No. 9 galvanized iron 
wire, although there is considerable of No. 
8, and a few thousand miles of No. 7 and 
6 in use. 

But a little more than a quarter of a cen- 
tury has elapsed since the electric telegraph 
was introduced to the public as a practical 
means of communicating intelligence. The 
first line constructed in the United States 
was put in opei*ation in the month of June, 
1844, between Washington and Baltimore. 
Up to this time the electric telegraph had 
been regarded only as a curious theoretical 
science without practical application. 

As far back as 1834, Messrs. Gauss and 
"Weber constructed a line of telegraph over 
the houses and steeples of Gottingen, using 
galvanic electricity and the phenomenon of 
magnetic induction as a motor. The slow 
oscillations of magnetic bars, caused by the 
passage of electric currents, and oljserved 
through a telescope furnished the signals for 
corresponding, but the operation was com- 
plicated, slow and inefficient. In 1837, M. 
Steinheil established a line of telegraph be- 



TELEGRAPHS — THEIR ORIGIN AND PROGRESS. 



313 



tween Munich and Bogenhausen, a distance 
of twelve miles; and in 1838, Professor 
Wheatstone constructed a line between 
London and Birmingham, but the apparatus 
employed by each was crude and unsatisfac- 
tory, and it was not until Professor Morse 
perfected his simple and reliable system, 
that the electric telegraph became of practi- 
cal utility. 



make them a present of a hundred dollars, 
but that he would not have his name asso- 
ciated as a stockholder in so wild and chime- 
rical a scheme. After the line was com- 
pleted, this incorrigible skeptic was amongst 
the first and best patrons of the company. 

As a natural consecpience of the distrust 
of capitalists, and the great diiliculty of rais- 
ing funds for properly building the lines, 




STOCK REPORTING AND PRIVATE LINE TELEGRAPH 



During the first few years after the intro- 
duction of the electric telegraph its progress 
was very slow. Capitalists were afraid to 
invest in an undertaking so novel and pre- 
carious. When one of the most distin- 
guished financiers of New York was asked 
by the projectors to subscribe towards the 
construction of the first line from Baltimore 
to New York, he replied that he would 



they were constructed in a very unreliable 
manner and breaks and interruptions was 
rather the normal condition of the wires 
than the exception. 

At the commencement of 1848, the length 
of telegraph wire in operation in this coun- 
try was about 3,000 miles. At the present 
time there are not less than 150,000 miles 
in successful operation within the limits of 



314 



TELEGRAPHS — THEIR ORIGIN AND PROGRESS. 



the United States, having over 5,000 sta- 
tions and employing upwards of 10,000 
operators and clerks. The gross receipts 
of the various telegraph companies in this 
country amounts to upwards of $9,000,000 
jier annum, while the aggregate capital em- 
ployed is more than $60,000,000. 

The various uses to which the telegraph 
has been applied is almost innumerable. 
Amongst the most imjDortant of them may 
be mentioned its application to the running 
of trains on railroads ; the giving of alarms 
of fire in our principal cities; its employ- 
ment in scientific and astronomical observa- 
tions, and the transmission of weather re- 
ports. Within the past few years a new 
field of usefulness has been opened and par- 
tially developed in the application of the 
telegraph to stock reporting and private line 
purposes, and in which it has already achieved 
a marked success, with promise of becoming 
in the future a still more important branch 
of the business. The instruments used for 
this purpose print the dispatches in plain 
Roman letters without the aid of an operator 
at the receiving station. Through the aid 
of this apparatus stock and market quota- 
tions are received at the Exchanges, Bank- 
ing-houses and other places of public resort 
in the chief commercial cities of the United 
States at all hours of the day. This new 
enterprise, which was inaugurated in 1868, 
has become one of the most imjiortant fea- 
tures of the telegraphic business. 

In December, 1870, a general system of 
telegraphic money orders or transfers was 
put into operation in the Pacific States. 
The public demand for the use of facilities 
for telegraphic exchange had long been ap- 
parent, and had induced the authorization 
of a limited amount of business which was 
conducted with success and profit ; but the 
need was felt of a system which could be 
adopted generally, without bringing in at 
the same time new and serious risks. This 
object has now been attained, and arrange- 
ments have been made for opening money- 
order offices in all parts of the country. 

Congress having, by joint resolution, au- 
thorized the Secretary of War to provide 
for taking ]\Ieteorological observations at 
various points in the United States and Ter- 
ritories, and for their transmission by tele- 
graph to stations on the Northern Lakes 
and Eastern Seaboard, arrangements were 
made with the Western Union Telegraph 
Company for the performance of the tele- 



graphic service commencing on the first of 
November, 1870. Sixteen circuits are oc- 
cupied, embracing fifty -five stations, from 
which three daily reports are transmitted to 
Washington, copies being also dropped at 
intermediate stations on each circuit, mak- 
ing an aggregate daily transmission of 20,000 
words. 

The synchronous transmission, three times 
per day, of meteorological observations from 
fifty -five stations embracing a territory cover- 
ing 25 degrees of Latitude and 55 degrees 
of Longitude is unparalleled in the history 
of the telegraph ; and the eminently suc- 
cessful manner in which this great under- 
taking has been performed, affords good 
evidence of the superior condition and opera- 
tion of the telegraph lines in this country. 

On the first of October, 1869, the West- 
ern Union Telegraph Comj^any, which 
operates lines in every State and Territory 
in the Union, adopted a new Air Line 
Tariff for the transmission of messages, caus- 
ing an average reduction of about 15 per 
cent, and on the first of January, 1870, in- 
augurated a new feature in telegraphy 
whereby messages could be received at and 
for all stations in the United States for 
transmission during the night and delivery 
the next day at one half the usual tariff 
rates. 

In Europe the telegraphs, with the ex- 
ception of the submarine lines, are nearly all 
owned and controlled by the Governments, 
and in England, Belgium, and Switzerland, 
they are connected with the postal service. 
In continental Europe the annual expendi- 
tures for the telegraphic service exceed the 
receipts by about two millions of dollars. 
In England the telegraj^hs were purchased 
by the Government in January, 1870. 
Since then the Government has expended 
about three million of dollars in excess of the 
receipts, but, as a portion of this expenditure 
is for new construction, it is uncertain how 
great the annual discrepancy will be. 

The progress of the electric telegraph 
within the past six years has been very great 
in every quarter of the globe. Upon this con • 
tinent the electric wire extends from the Gulf 
of the St. Lawrence to the Gulf of Mexico, 
and from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean. 
Three cables span the Atlantic Ocean, con- 
necting America with Europe, and another 
submerged in the Gulf Stream, unites us 
with the queen of the Antilles. Unbroken 
telegraphic communication exists between all 



TKLKGKArnS TIIKIE ORIGIN AND PROGRESS. 



315 



])laces in America and all parts of l^uroiie ; 
with Tripoli antl Algeirs in Africa ; Cairo 
ill Kgypt ; Teheran in Persia ; Jerusalem 
in Syria; Bagdad and Nineveh, in Asiatic 
Turkey ; 15und)ay, Calcutta, and other im- 
})ortant cities in India; IIong-Kong and 
."Shanghai in China; Irkoutsk, the capital 
of Eastern Siberia; Kiakhta on the liorders 
of Cliina; Nagasaki in Japan ; Havana and 
all important towns in Cuba, and to New 
"Westminster in British Columbia. But, 
however ra])id the extension of the tele- 
graph has been in the past, it is destined to 
show still greater advancement in the fu- 
ture. Neither the American nor the Euro- 
pean system has yet attained to its ultimate 
development. Submarine cables will shortly 
be laid connecting the United States with 
all the West India Islands and with Mexico 
:ind South America. The telegraph is al- 
ready established in vario js parts of the lat- 
ter country, and in Brazil and Peru arrange- 
anents are now making for largely extiiiiding 
them. The project of connecting Vera Cruz 
and New Orleans by a submarine cable is 
likely to be soon realized, while a line is 
now completed between New Orleans and 
the city of INfexlco. 

A direct line of telegraph under one con- 
trol and management has recently been es- 
tablished between London and India with 
extensions to Singapore and China, which 
will soon be continued to Australia. 

P^urope pos>esses 4.>0,0()0 miles of tele- 
grajjhic wire and ]3,<>00 stations; America 
18»»,000 miles of wire and G,000 stations; 
India 1 4,000 miles of wire and 200 stations ; 
and Australia 10,000 miles of wire and 270 
stations ; and the extension throughout the 
world is now at the rate of 100,000 miles of 
wire per annum. There are in addition 
3U.OO0 miles of submarine telegraph wire 



now in successful operation, extending be- 
neath the Atlantic and German Oceans ; 
the Baltic, North, INIediterranean, lied, 
Arabian, Japan and China Seas ; the Per- 
sian Gulf; the Bay of Biscay, the Strait of 
Gibralter, and the Gulfs of Mexico and St. 
Lawrence. 

More than twenty thousand cities and 
villages are now linked in one continuous 
chain of telegraphic stations. The mysteri- 
ous wire with its subtle and invisible influ- 
ence travei'ses all civilized lands, and passes 
beneath oceans, seas, and rivers, bearing 
messages of business, friendship, and love, 
and constantly, silently, but powerfully con- 
tributing to the peace, happiness, and pros- 
perity of all mankind. 

Professor Morse, who was already past 
middle age when he conceived the idea of 
the electric telegraph on board of the packet 
ship Sully on her ever memorable passage 
from Havre to New York, in 1832, and 
who was nearly three-score years of age 
when his first line was built, is still living 
with mind and body unimpaired, and enjoy- 
ing at the age of four score the rich fruits of 
a harvest more abundant than than has ever 
fallen to the lot of any other man. The in- 
vention of Professor Morse, which although 
yet in its infancy, has already conferred in- 
estimable benefits upon the people of more 
than half the globe without having occa- 
sioned a pang of sorrow to a single human 
being. If he is to be entitled to be esteemed 
a benefactor who makes two blades of grass 
to grow where but one grew before, with; 
what honors should we regard him through 
whom wars have been postponed and short- 
ened, peace promoted and extended, time' 
annihilated and distance abolished, and all 
the highest and noblest faculties of maru 
multiplied, extended, and enlarged. 



19* 



THE ARTS OF DESIGN IN AMERICA, 

FROM 1780 TO THE PRESENT TIME. 



CHAPTER I. 

PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ENGRAVING. 

Horace Walpole says, in his " Anec- 
dotes of Painting in England" (writing in 
1762): " As our disputes and politics have 
travelled to America, is it not probable that 
poetry and painting, too, will revive amidst 
those extensive tracts, as they increase in 
opulence and empire, and where the stores 
of nature are so various, so magnificent, and 
so new?" 

These lines w^ere penned, perchance, in 
grave prophetic faith, but it may be that 
they were only idle speculations — a play of 
fancy, meaning nothing. Certain it is, that 
were the critic ever so much in earnest, very 
little could he have expected the full and 
noble response which so short a period would 
make to his query. 

Little could he or any one have foreseen 
the rapid growth of these " extensive tracts" 
in population and in evcr}^ phase of matei'ial 
life ; still less the wonderful strides which 
they have made in all branches of mechani- 
cal and industrial art; and least of all, their 
achievements in the higher and ajsthetlc arts 
of design. Little could he have dreamed 
that within a period seemingly insufficient 
for the construction even of the rude foun- 
dations of empire, our country would have 
reached that point of refinement and intellect- 
ual development which gives it, in ample store, 
its own literature and its own arts — both 
with a strong and peculiar individuality of 
character and life. 

The only artists in America in Walpole's 
time were a few strangers — Englishmen for 
the most part — who had wandered hither in 
quest of a fortune which their very humble 
talents had failed to win at home. They did 
little or nothing toward the development of 
the public taste, and left no works to lionor 
the future ; though they may, perhaps, have 
served, in some measure, to open the path 
for the distinguished group of native paint- 



ers who, quickly succeeding them, fairly and 
surely lighted the lamp of art which now 
burns with such pure and ever-growing 
brightness. 

The earliest of these pioneers, wdiose name 
has been preserved, was John Watson, a 
native of Scotland. He crossed the seas 
and set up his easel in Perth Amboy, in New 
Jersey, in the year 1715. In this little port, 
which was then thought destined to be what 
the city of New York is now — the commer- 
cial emporium of the country — Watson 
painted portraits, such as they were, through 
a long life. He appears to have had plenty 
of " sitters," and to have grown rich upon 
the fruits of well-employed industry; but 
we can gather no intimations of the state of 
the popular taste at that time through the 
medium of his works, inasmuch as none of 
them now remain for our inspection. Wat- 
son was buried about the 22d of August, 
1708, in the old church-yard of his adopted 
village, at the venerable age of eighty-three 
years. 

Our next pioneer was John Smybert, a 
stronger man, much, than Watson, and one 
who, though he painted no pictures to be 
treasured in our galleries, yet left foot- 
prints of good incentive and example, 
w hich we may clearly trace beneath the sub- 
sequent march of greater gifts. Copley, 
though but thirteen years of age at the 
time of Smybert's death, confesses indebted- 
ness to him and his works. So also does 
Trumbull, who at one time painted in the 
apartments he had occupied, and in which 
many of his pictures still remained ; while 
AUston is thankful for the advantage he en- 
joved in the permission to copy a head 
which Smybert had executed after Vandyke. 
Smybert accompanied Bishop Berkeley to 
America in the year 1728, at the age of 
forty-two. Like Watson, he was a Scotch- 
man, and like him, again, he pursued his 
craft in the colonies with gratifying financial 
success. He lived in Boston in high public 



PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ENGRAVING. 



3T 



favor until 1751, Icaviui; beliiiid him many 
portraits of the distinguished characters of 
his time. 

Nathaniel Smybcrt, a son of John Smybert, 
followed his father's profession worthily in 
Boston for a short time, and, according to 
the opinion of cotemporary critics, gave 
promise of more than ordinary talents. Xo 
record of him remains beyond the meagre 
facts here mentioned, and the additional one 
that he died early. 

While the Smyberts were planting the 
seeds of art in Boston, there was in Phila- 
del])liia a Mr. Williams, an Englishman, re- 
membered gratefully by AVest as the man 
\Yho awakened his love of pictures by lend- 
ing him books and by showing him the first 
works in oil which he had ever looked upon. 
l)uring the same period, Woolaston and 
Taylor were also in Philadelphia ; a Mi-, 
llesselius was at Annapolis in Maryland ; a 
Mr. Thcus in Charleston, and other laborers 
were in Virginia. 

Besides the foreign ad\'enturcrs here 
spoken of, there were a few native artists 
scattered over the country during the ante- 
revolutionary period of our history. It is 
liardly desirable to recall even their names, 
or to add to our list of the yet earlier 
strangers ; since, despite the service their 
little light may have done, in the then deep 
darkness, not one of them all possessed 
more than the most moderate talent, and 
not one will be remembered excepting in the 
way in which they are now so briefly re- 
ferred to — tliat is, in consideration of the 
initial times in which they chanced to live. 

The biith of American art was not in any 
portion of our colonial epoch, but singularly 
and felicitously enough, was in that day of 
liappy augury when our country itself sprang 
into life, and started upon its conquering 
course of national development and power; 
and with equal strangeness and equal felicity, 
the very beginning of our individual exis- 
tence as a people produced, on a sudden, full- 
grown artists of first-rate genius, as it aid 
Minerva-born statesmen, soldiers, and phil- 
osophers. 

During the progi'css of our great revo- 
lutionary strugLde with the mother land, and 
at the time of our successful emergence from 
that trial, Benjamin West, born in the forests 
of i'eunsylvania, was reaching the liighest 
lionors in the art world of London, sur- 
passing all native competitors, becoming the 
successor of Keynolds in the presldental 



chair of the English Academy, and enjoy- 
ing the most distinguished consideration, 
the patronage, and the personal friendship of 
the very monarch against whom his country- 
men were waging angry war. 

It is, then, with IJcnjamin West, and ^\ itii 
the birth of our country as an independent 
nation — about a hundred years since, in 
1772 — that our story of American art prop- 
erly and prosjierously begins. We shall, 
however, say but little of West, since the 
space that has been allotted to this subject 
does not afford room for an extended untico 
of any one. Though we may rightfully honor 
him as the father of American painters, and 
may write his name first on the long cata- 
logue of eminent laborers in the noble field 
of art which we now possess, yet, tlie fact 
that the greater part of his professional life 
was spent in England, and that his chief 
success was won there, places him, in one 
sense, among the painters of that country, 
rather than of this ; just as the life-long 
residence among us of a foreign-born ai-tist 
may make him ours, instead of his own 
countrymen's. 

West was born in 1738, in Pennsylvania, 
as we have already said, near Springfield, 
Chester county. His parents were Quakers, 
and their habits of life, together with all 
surrounding circumstances, were such as to 
discourage rather than foster a predisposi- 
tion toward the study of art. Tlie bent of 
the boy's mind was, nevertheless, early and 
powerfully manifested. The sight of Wil- 
liams' pictures inflamed his youthful pre- 
dilections to such a degree that, in want of 
better pencils, he manufactured a supply 
from the stolen fur of his mother's favorite 
cat; in want of subjects, he, while yet a 
child, seized upon his infant sister sleepuig, 
all unconscious, m her cradle ; and in want 
of pigments, he borrowed ochres of the Del- 
aware and Mohawk Indians, and mdigo 
from the maternal laundry ! lie studied 
after a while in Philadelphia, and subse- 
quently painted portraits in New York. At 
the age of twenty-one he went abroad, and 
after a tour through the ai't cities of ^he 
continent, he established himself in London, 
where he afterward chiefly resided, rising- 
rapidly into popular favor, until, upon the 
death of Sir Joshua Reynolds, the first 
president of the Ivoyal Academy, his posi- 
tion as the head of the English school was 
affirmed by the high lion'>r of his election to 
the vacant chair. This distinguishe.d position 



318 



THE ARTS OF DESIGN IN AMERICA. 



Le filled with great dignity until his death, 
on the 11th of March, 1820, at the advanced 
age of nearly eighty-two years. 

West's fame was won chiefiy in the noble 
field of historical painting — a department 
wbich his brother artists of America have 
not continued fittingly to cultivate ; though 
one in which they cannot, in due time, yet 
fail to distinguish themselves no less honor- 
ably than they have already done in land- 
scape and portraiture ; so rich and bound- 
less are the themes at their command, and 
growing with every passing year yet more 
beautiful and noble in aspect. 

Among the cliief productions of liis skil- 
ful and most industrious pencil, we may men- 
tion the Battles of the Hague and the 
Boyne ; the Death of General Wolfe ; the 
Return of Rcgulus to Carthage ; Agrippina 
Bearing the Ashes of Germanicus; the Young 
Hannibal Swearing Eternal Enmity to the 
Romans ; tlie Death of Epaminondas ; the 
Death of Chevalier Bayard ; Penn's Treaty 
with the Indians ; Death on the Bale Horse ; 
and Christ Healing the Sick. Many of his 
works are now in America ; among others. 
Death on the Pale Horse, which is in the 
galleries of the Pennsylvania Academy of 
Fine Arts in Philadelphia; and Christ Heal- 
ing the Sick, also in Philadelphia, in tlie 
Pennsylvania Hospital, to which it was given 
with noble generosity by the artist himself. 

In the same year in whicli West was born 
in Pennsylvania, John Singleton Copley, an- 
other distinguished man in the earlier days 
of American art, appeared in the city of 
Boston. The one, like the other, after follow- 
ing his profession at home for some time, 
went to London, and there continued to live 
and labor for the rest of his days. The simul- 
taneous appearance of these two gifted men, 
at this early period of our country's progress, 
and in sections of tlie Union then so far sep- 
arated, was, as Cunningham says, when al- 
luding to the circumstance — most "note- 
worthy." Copley was occupied for the most 
part with portraits, though he made success- 
ful incursions at intervals into the domains 
of history. One of his best works in this 
department of the art, and that to which he 
first owed his fame, was the large canvas 
representing the Death of the Earl of Chat- 
ham. Copley died in 1815, five years earlier 
than his confrere, Benjamin West. Many 
of his pictures are now treasured in the gal- 
leries and in the private collections of Boston, 
and in other parts of the Union. Lord 



Lyndhurst, of England, was a son ot this 
artist. 

In 1754, just sixteen years after the birth 
of West and Copley, Gilbert Stuart, of 
Rhode Island, came upon the stage, the ear- 
liest of that gifted line of portrait painters 
whose Avorks have placed this branch of the 
art as high in America as in any part of the 
old woi'ld. Stuart, with Trumbull as a 
companion, studied under West in London, 
where he afterward painted successfully, and 
in due time rose to great eminence. L'nlike 
his distinguished j)redecessors. West and 
Copley, he returned after a time, to his na- 
tive land, and after some years practice of 
his art in Philadelphia, Washington, and 
Boston, he died in the latter city in July, 
1828, in his seventy-fifth year, liis name is 
familiar to the public at large, through Jiis 
great picture of Washington, Avhich he re- 
peated for various societies and state legisla- 
tures, and which is spread over our land in 
every style of the graver's art. He painted 
noble portraits of many other of the distin- 
guished people of his time — from presidents 
to private gentlemen. His works are cher- 
ished among us as master-pieces and models, 
exerting still, as they have ever done, a mark- 
ed influence upon the character of American 
portraiture. The especial characteristics of 
his style were a marvellous freedom and bold- 
ness of touch, a wonderful freshness and ful- 
ness of color, and a truth of character which 
placed the very soul of his sitter before you 
in the most striking individuality. " lie 
seemed," says a cotemporary writer, " to 
dive into the thoughts of men — for they are 
made to rise and speak on the surface ;" 
and Sully is reported to have remarked of 
one of his portraits: "/< is a Uvinc/ man 
looking directly at you /" 

Stuart was a man of eminent social dis- 
position and abilities, a famous wag and hu- 
morist, fond of a jest, and overflowing with 
anecdote. Innumerable amusing illustra- 
tions of this trait in his character, sprinkle 
and enliven the recorded and remembered 
records of his life. 

Another pupil of West's, at this period, 
was Robert Fulton, who was born in Little 
Britain, in the county of Lancaster, Pa., in 
1705. Fulton commenced the practice of 
art in 1782, at the age of seventeen, but 
continued it only a few years, being more 
powerfully led toward those scientific studies 
to which his genius was, as the end proved, 
better adapted ; and from which sprang that 



PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ENGRAVING. 



319 



t;lory of our time, the practical and perma- 
iK'iit jipplication of stcain to iuiviu;ation. 
Fulton's sliort career as an artist left no 
Ic^iMe mark; what iniL^lit liavc been his 
achievcnients had he continued in the guild, 
^ve cannot say, and are, indeed, careless 
to iiujuire, in view of his immortal labors 
otherwise. American art is willinc; to spare 
him, as it has since spared the illustrious 
Morse, to its graver sister. Science ; and is 
no less proud of the practical blessings he 
has bestowed upon his country, than it 
would be of the highest aesthetic success. 
Fuhon died upon the 24th of February, 
1 S 1 5. 

Next aiiKMigthe men of service and iniluence 
in the cause of art in America was William 
1 )unlap, who was born in Perth Amboy, N.J., 
February 19th, 17G6, and who commenced 
the profession of portrait painter about 1 782. 
J)unla]) will be rememl>ered as an artist more 
for his long life of reverent and persistent de- 
votion to the craft, and for the respect and 
estimation which his .character gained for it, 
than for his success at the easel ; though he 
both attempted and achieved works which 
were commended at a less brilliant period 
tlian the present, lie was also an author of 
considerable al>ility. Among his works is a 
"History of the American Theatre," publish- 
ed in 18:Vi, and another of the New Nether- 
lands, which appeared in IS-IO; a memoir 
of Charles Broekden Brown, and various 
j)lavs of considerable interest. P)Ut the 
most important <)f liis literary labors is the 
only record we j)ossess of the early story of 
American art, an invaluable work under the 
circumstances, and one f(U- which he will be 
ever remembered, although clumsily con- 
structed and injured by a most weai'isome 
medley of irrelevant matter. In this " His- 
tory of the Arts of Design," Dunlap gives us 
liis own biography with great discursiveness 
and fulness, though with humble and char- 
acteristic reverence, exhibiting his own career 
as one to be shunned rather than followed. 
' I look back," he says in mournful rc'rJec- 
tion, " upon a long life, with the persuasion 
that what is called misfortune in common 
jiarlance is caused generally by our own 
follv, ignorance, mistakes, or vices." To read 
his story as recorded in his "History of the 
Arts of Design," is to read a sad record of 
untoward circumstances, varied eftbrt, and 
ever-following failure; but, withal, a praise- 
worthv and even exalted longing t<» be of use 
to his fellows and his country. His pictures 



were generally of a very ambitious character, 
scriptural themes on canvas twenty feet long. 
Among these ])roduetions of high art were 
Christ Pkcjected ; I'earing the Cross; Cal- 
vary; and Death on the Pale Horse; the 
first of which was made up in part, ami tlie 
last wholly, from West's pictures of the same 
names. 

Besides thus remembering Dunlap for the 
art records which he has preserved with so 
nmch honesty and industry, and for what he 
would have done, and sought to lead otliers 
to do at the easel, he nuist be honored as 
one of the founders and the tirst vice-presi- 
dent of our leading art society, the National 
Academy of Design in New York. Dunlap 
died on the 28th of September, 1839. 

To the life and works of Colonel Jolm 
Trumbull our early art owes great obliga- 
tions, though it is nuich the fashion at this 
dav to disparage and deny his genius. Trum- 
bulTs name is familiar to the people through 
his grand pictures of revolutionary story 
which decorate the walls of the national 
capitol. He was the son of the first gov- 
ernor Trumbull of Conneeticut, and was 
born at Lebanon on the 0th of June, 1756. 
To high birth he added, through life, high 
character and learning, and great culture 
and dignity of manners. His early studies 
were, as was the case with all the artists 
of his time, pursued abroad and under l>en- 
jamin West. He entered the American 
army at the commencement of the lievolu- 
tion, and was an eye-witness of, and ])artici- 
pant in, some of its most stirring scenes, of 
which the subsetpient delineation won for 
him his fame as a painter. The four large 
works executed for the government, are : 
the r)eclaration of Independence ; the Sur- 
render of Cornwallis; tlie Surrender of 
Burgoyne ; and W^ashington's Kesignation. 
An appropriation of thirty-two thousand 
dollars was made for these pictures, be- 
sides which, the artist received considerable 
emolument from their public exhibit ioTi 
through the country. Among his other his- 
torical works may lie mentioned the Battle 
of Bunker Hill ; the Death of Ceneral Mont- 
gomery ; Capture of the Hessians at Trenton ; 
and the Death of General Mercer at the 
Battle of Princeton. In addition, lie exe- 
cuted various scriptural subjects, and many 
portraits, among which was a full-length of 
Washington, painted in 1792, in the artist's 
best days. A few years before his deatli, 
be pi'cseiited his colle<'ted works to Yale 



320 



TIIK ARTS OF DESIGN IN AMERICA. 



College, upon tlic condition that they should 
be suitably housed, and that he should re- 
ceive an annuity of one thousand dollars. 
The colleye erected a gallery on its grounds 
in New Haven, where the pictures Avere 
placed, and where they now may be seen. 

Colonel Trumbull was president of the 
American Academy of Fine Arts, in New 
York, until that effete organization was su- 
perseded in 1820 by the cstablishmcut of 
the National Academy of Design. Trum- 
bull did not, at any period of his life, pos- 
sess much of that genial fellowship and social 
habit so characteristic of artists, and so es- 
sential t:) personal popularity in the profes- 
sion. He died in 1843, at the venerable age 
of eighty-seven years, leaving behind him a 
name unspotted, and a claim to distinguished 
remembrance in the history of art in America, 
despite all the faults of his works, and how- 
ever nnich tliey have since been or yet may 
be sur})assod. 

Charles W. Feale, born at Chesterton, on the 
eastern shore of Maryland, April 16th, 1741, 
was an active colaborer with Trumbull and 
his fellows, but was mt eminently successful 
at the easel. He was a man of versatile 
gifts, and at various times dabbled in all 
sorts of crafts. He made his brothers, sis- 
ters, sons, and daughters all artists. He died 
in 182 7, at the age of eighty -five years. 

John Vanderlyn was born in Kingston, in 
the state of New York, in October, 177G, 
where he died at the age of seventy-six 
years, in 1852. Aaron Burr was struck 
with his boyish performances in art while 
he was a blacksmith's apprentice in his na- 
tive village, and befriended him at the com- 
mencement of his career. At the age of 
twenty he made the foreign tour, so custom- 
ary at the time, studying in Paris and other 
cities of the continent of Europe. In the 
year 1817, the corporation of New York 
having given him the lease of the' ground, 
he erected the building in the north-east cor- 
ner of the City Hall park in New York, 
afterward used as the Post Ollice, and always 
known as the Rotunda. Here he exhibited 
in succession a series of panoramas, the first 
seen in this country, of I'aris, Athens, Mex- 
ico, and Versailles, with his own pictures — 
Mariiis, Ariadne, and other subjects. The 
unexj)ected cost of the building, and the 
resumption of the lease by the city before 
the artist had fairly tried his speculation, 
made it a matter of serious pecuniary loss 
to him. Among his chief pictures are the 



Landing of Columbus, which fills one of the 
panels of the rotunda of the Capitol iu 
Washington — one of the pendants of those 
already mentioned by Trumbull ; his fine 
picture of Marius Musing over the Ruins of 
Carthage, painted in 1808; and liis superb 
full-length figure of Ariadne, so beautifully 
engraved by Durand ; portraits of Presidents 
j\Iadison, Monroe, and Jackson ; of Calhoun, 
De Witt Clinton, and other distinguished 
men. He exerted a most healthy infiuence 
upon liis fellow artists, and his works remain 
as models for future study. 

Edward G. Malbone was born in New- 
port, Rhode Island, in 1777, and died in 
Savannah, in May, 1807, in his thirty-second 
year. During his short life he won high 
reputation as a miniature painter; and his 
works in this department are still preserved 
in various parts of the country as master- 
pieces of art. One of his most successful 
productions — a picture of three half-length fe- 
male figures, called The Hours — is now in the 
possession of the Athenaeum in Providence. 

Rembrandt I'eale. whose history belongs 
to this )ieriod, though more recently deceased, 
was boiu of a lamily of artists in Penn- 
sylvania, on the 22d of February, 1778. 
He was an active, earnest man in his time, 
and did much in the service of art, by his 
own works, and the incentive which his ex- 
ample gave to others. His picture of Wasli- 
ington, painted in the artist's boyhood, and 
afterward often repeated by him, is well 
known ; as also his grand work called the Court 
of Death. His long and honored career, 
which embraced nearly the whole period of 
our art history, was closed on the 3d of Oc- 
tober, 1860. 

John Wesley Jarvis, one of the most dis- 
tinguished portrait painters of this era, was 
born in England in 1780, and brought to 
America at the age of five years. He 
painted innumerable pictures, many of them 
of great merit ; and did good service as the 
instructor of Henry Imnan, and other dis- 
tinguished artists. He was a man of emi- 
nentl}- social disposition, with a great turn 
for humor — traits of character pleasant 
enough when well employed, but which ho 
unhappily permitted to lead him into low and 
ruiiKJUs dissipation, Avhich impaired his ar- 
tistic powers, and brought a life begun under 
the ha|)piest promise to the dreariest end. 

Charles B. King, born in Newport, Rhode 
Island, 1785; Alvan Fisher, born in Need- 
ham, Massachusetts, 1792 ; AViiliamE. West, 



PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AXD ENGRAVING. 



321 



fiiiJ William James Bonnet, born in London, 
17S7, may be mentioned in tliis part of our 
story as men of mark and inlluenec in their 
day tliOiigU they left no works l)ehind them 
of great excellence. Mr. King, passed away, 
March 18. 18(i2, in "Washington, the National 
Capital, where he for many years virtually 
filled the fashionable position of court paint- 
er, preserving to posterity the likenesses of 
presidents, ministers, statesmen, and the 
chiefs of the Indian deputations who came to 
see their uroat white father at the capital. 

The lite, of Thomas Sully lills a deliglitful 
page in the history of American art. Born 
in England in June, 178o, he came hither 
at the age of nine years, struggled bravely 
through an indigent youth and a laborious 
manhood to a position of high honor and 
usefulness. He is still pursuing, at the age 
of 81), in Philadelphia, the profession which 
he has through many years so ell'ectually 
contributed to advance. Ilis pictures are 
characterized by grace and beauty of feeling, 
and a daintiness and freshness of color well 
deserving of most careful study. He has 
painted many full-length pictures of dis- 
tinguished personages, among them one of 
Queen Victoria, which was exhibited with 
great success in all the Atlantic cities, and 
numerous fancy heads of great poetic beauty. 
Charles Eraser, born in Charleston. South 
Carolina, Aug. 20, 1782, and died there Oct. 
;"), 1860, was an esteemed associate of the 
best men of the days of which we write. 
His works have materially advanced the 
standard of public taste in his native state. 
After obtaining a competency by the indus- 
trious pursuit of legal studies, he began the 
profession of artist in earnest at the age of 
thirty-six. Following the successful lead of 
his friend Malbone, he turned his attention 
especially to miniature painting, in which 
style he executed a picture of Lafayette, 
and of nearly all of the prominent men of 
his region. An exhibition of his collected 
works in 1857, included 313 miniatures, 1?') 
landscapes, and other works in oil. 

Chester Harding, who passed away, April 
1, 18Gf), was born in Conway, INIass., Sept. 
1st, 1792. His humble parentage sent 
him at tirst to farm work and chair-making. 
After the war of 1812, in which he served, 
he cngjiged in cabinet-making in Caledonia, 
New York. He subsequently went to the 
head waters of the Alleghany, and thence 
on a raft to Pittsburg, where he worked at 
house-painting ; he returned home through 



the forest, two liundred miles, on foot, with 
no guide but blazed trees. Again visiting 
the west with his family, he worked from 
sign painting into ])ortraitnr(> ; thenceforth 
gradually rising in his profession, until he 
numbered among his sitters such men as 
Madison, Monroe, Marshall, AVirt, Clay, 
Webster, Calhoun, and AUstun, in America; 
and the dukes of Norfolk, Hamilton, and 
Sussex, Lord Aberdeen, and Samuel Rogers, 
in England. 

AVashington Allston, one of the most il- 
lustrious of our artists, was a native of South 
Carolina, ha\ing been born on his father's 
plantation at Waccamaw, in that state, on the 
5th of November, 1779. He was a high- 
toned man, of poetic temperament and schol- 
arlv tastes, and was eminent as a poet as 
well as an artist. He was a student of the 
Pioyal Academy in London in 1801, and an 
exhibitor on the walls of that institution the 
following year. At this early period of his 
life he became an intimate friend of Cole- 
ridge and Thorwaldsen, West and Fuseli, 
and other distinguished men. In a second 
visit to Europe, about 1810, he exhibited 
his famous picture of the Dead Man lie- 
vived, which is now in the Pennsylvania 
Academy at Philadelphia. For this work a 
prize of 200 guineas was awarded to him by 
the British Institution. His next consider- 
able works were: St. Peter Liberated by 
the Angel ; Uriel in the Sun, which was 
painted for the duke of Sutherland ; and 
Jacob's Dream. In 1818 he returned 
home, with his picture of Elijah in the 
Wilderness, which afterward went back to 
England. Within the next twelve years he 
produced his Prophet Jeremiah, recently pre- 
sented by Prof. ]\Iorse to the Art IMuseum of 
Yale Coflege ; Saul and the Witch of Endor ; 
Miriam Singing the Song of Triumph, and 
other justly celebrated works. Among his 
smaller pictures, the Valentine and Be- 
atrice, female ideal heads, are remarkable 
for their power of expression and strength 
of color. In the studio in which he finally 
settled himself at Cambridge, he painted 
Spalatro's Vision of the Bloody Hand ; 
Rosalie ; and his grand unfinished subject, 
Belshazzar's Feast. In his early life he was 
an intimate friend of Washington Irving, 
whom he almost won over to his own studies, 
as the author's profession may have attracted 
him, for during his life he made frequent in- 
cursions into the literary arena, publishing 
in London, in 1813, a poem entitled "The 



3::2 



THE ARTS OF DESIGN IX AMERICA. 



Sj'^lphs of the Season," and afterward the 
metrical satire entitled, " The Two Painters," 
the weird story of the " Paint Kinp;," " Mo- 
naldi, a Tale of Passion in Italy," followed 
after his death by a A^olume of "Lectures on 
Art." He was twice married, first in 1809 
to a sister of Dr. Clianuinij;, and atjjain in 
18;?0. lie died at Caml>rid<;-e on the 9th of 
July, 1843. 

i'hoinas Birch, a marine painter, born in 
London 1779, died in Philadelphia Jan, 1851, 
and Joshua Shaw, a landscape painter, horn 

in England in 1776, died . lioth 

became residents of the United States in 
childhood, and gained a reputation in their 
respect! ve depart ments. 

Among the popular painters of this time 
were Sanuiel L. Waldo (1783-1801), and 
AVilliani Jewelt, 1795. Mr. Jewett was a 
pupil and af erwards a partner of jMr. Waldo, 
and tlie two painted many portraits together, 
of great merit. 

Our narrative now passes tlie line, as nearly 
as such a line may be drawn, between the 
artists of the revolutionary and immediately 
following years, and the earlier part of the 
present century. Already have we seen the 
arts firmly rooted in the love of the people 
and the genius of their professors ; seen na- 
tive artists grow up, and by their labors re- 
flect high and imperishable lionor on their 
country. In the continuation and the sequel 
of our history it will be our pleasure to see 
this glory ever brightening, and the public 
taste and artistic skill still more rapidly ad- 
vancing hand in hand. This progress can- 
not, however, be better understood than by 
following, step by step, the lives of those 
from whose genius and works it alone springs. 
We therefore continue; as we have begun, 
the chronological mention of the men to 
whom we are the most indebted for it. 

AVe have already seen how our country 
had no sooner come of age than its early in- 
debtedness to the mother-land for the hum- 
ble aid of her Smybert and others, was 
promptly and nobly repaid by the fame 
which we sent her of a West and a Copley. 
Not content with this ample acknowledg- 
ment, we added to these high names at a 
later dav those of Leslie and Newton, which 
she has inscribed upon the brightest tablet 
of her art acluevement. Both these emi- 
nent artists were Americans by their parent- 
age, though, throULrh the •■haiices of the mo- 
ment, the former first saw the light in Lon- 
don. The latter was born in Halifax, in 



Nova Scotia, during a temporary visit of his 
parents thither from Boston. They estab- 
lished themselves in London, where they 
passed their lives in such successful labors 
as to leave a name and fame cherished zeal- 
ously both by their native and their adopted 
homes. 

Some of the men most distinguished and 
the most serviceable in the cause of art in 
America who came ujaon the stage at or near 
the beginning of the present century, are 
yet living to see the hapj^y fruits of their 
toil, in the general ditFusion of an apprecia- 
tive and enduring love of art throughout the 
land, in the growing up of a community of 
artists, large and influential enough to have 
become an acknowledged and revered power 
in society, and in the firm foundation of a 
strongly individualized and healthful national 
school. 

Among these great men, we should, per- 
haps, mention the late Samuel Findley 
Breesc Morse, to whom (though he was drawn 
out of the profession as Fulton was before 
him, bv the allurements of science) we owe 
much for the excellent labors of his pencil 
and the yet more excellent eftects of his 
earnest sympathy with his art brethren 
throughout his long and illustrious life. It 
is to this strong and indcfetigable love that 
Ave are, more than to any other agency, in- 
debted for the foundation and success of our 
chief art society, the National Academy of 
Design. Morse was the leading spirit in 
this great enterprise. He was its first presi- 
dent ; an ofiice which he continued to fill 
with liigh honor for a score of years, and 
which, oidy that other duties required him 
to resign, he would have filled to this day. 
Prof Morse was born in Charlestown, Mass., 
April 29th, 1791. His father Avas the fa- 
mous geographer, the Pev. Jedidiah Morse. 
He was educated at Yale College under Dr. 
Dwight. In his twentieth year he went to 
England, and yet two years later successfully 
exhibited a large picture of the Dying 
Hercules at the lioyal Academy. He had 
previously executed a plaster model of the 
Hercules, which he also displayed, and for 
which, greatly to his own surprise, he re- 
ceived the [/old medal from the Society of 
Arts. From this happy commencement of 
his life as an artist, and from the portraits 
and other works which he subsequently ])ro- 
duced, until other studies drew his mind 
away from tlie easel, we may fairly suppose 
that he Avould have reached the highest jiosi- 




bI.ATL.,.>lL.N lAi.M.lU IN 1111 HM. VKlf 




WOMEN ENOAGEI) IM THE FIN.: AllTS. 



>o 



PAINTING, SCULrxrUE, AND KNGRAVING. 



023 



tion as a painter had he continued to seek 
it, and some rejrret at his loss to the arts 
may be permitted, even in view of what the 
worhl at hirge owes to his scientiiic studies 
in the jineeioss gift of the ]Magnetic Tcle- 
grajili. Professor Morse died in New York, 
April 2, 1872. 

(, harles C. Ingham, an eminent portrait 
painter, horn in Dnidin, 17i.)7, died in New 
York, Dee. H', ISGO. lie was an earnest 
co-lahorer with INIorse in the estahlislnnent 
of our National Academy, which has always 
owed and still owes much in its exhibitions 
to the productions of his easel — his exquis- 
ite ])ictnies of fair women anil brave men. 
lie tilled for some years the office of vice- 
president of the acatlemy. 

I\()l)ert W. Weir, who has been for many 
years, as now, professor of drawing at the 
INIilitary Academy at West Point, holds a 
distingidshed place among the older of our 
living artists. He was born on the 18th of 
January. 1.S03, at New Kochelle, in the state 
of New York. It is to his pencil- that we 
owe that best of the pictures in the Capitol 
at Washington, the J^mbarkation of the 
Pilgrims, a work eminently illustrative of 
the thoughtfnlness and conscientiousness of 
his genius. He has ^tainted numerous his- 
torical eom])ositions, genre subjects, land- 
scapes, and portraits of great excellence. 

Thomas S. Cummings, another of 1m'^ 
founders of the Academy, and always one 
of its otlicers. held high rank at this period 
in the department of miniature painting. 
IMr. Ciunmiiigs was born in Bath, England, 
in 180 1, and became a resident of the United 
iStates in early childhood. 

John (i. Chapman, born in Alexandria, 
Virginia, on the 11th of August, 1808, now 
residing in Italy, is well known as the paint- 
er of the Baptism of Pocahontas, in the 
Capitol at AVashington, and as the author of 
innumerable designs in our illustrated books. 

William 8. Momit, born in Setaidcet, 
L. 1., Nov. 1807, died there, Nov.l'J, 18(;8, 
was the first American artist who achievcrl 
success in subjects of a purely luitional 
character, in a series of pictures of tin; hum- 
bler features of our country life. His Bar- 
gaining for a Horse, Haymaker's Dance, the 
Power of Music, and other light themes, 
have been often engraved, and are familiar 
to everybody. 

Francis VV. Edmon<ls, born 180ti, died 
18(;o, produceil many pleasant pictures in the 
same vein of ([uid humor with Mount. 



Wiliam Page, born in Albany, Jan. 23, 
1811, has distinguished himself, at honu; and 
abroad, in the field of portraiture. He 
])ainted, also, many excellent classic themes, 
among them two Vernises, which were great- 
ly admired. Mr. Page has been President 
of the Academy since May, 1871. 

Henry Inman, born in Utica, N. Y., Oct. 
20, 1801, died Jan. 17, 1846, was one of the 
most eminent of American artists. He was 
a pupil of Jarvis, whom he soon surpassed, 
excellent as Jarvis was. He was a man of 
remarkable versatility, and worked with 
ecpial iacdity in portraiture, landscape, and 
history. He was a guest of Wordsworth, 
during a visit to England in 1841, at which 
time lie painted a characteristic picture of 
the great poet, and that charming illustra- 
tion of the scenery of his region, the Rydal 
Wat<^-. While in England, he ])ainte(l, also, 
portraits of Dr. Chalmers, IMacauIay, and 
other eminent people. The exhibition which 
■was made, after his death, of his works, was 
one of the most interesting and varied ever 
seen in New York. 

With the advent of Asher Brown Durand 
as a landscape painter, about 1828, begins 
the development of high art in the dejjart- 
ment of landscape jiainting in this country. 
The few artists who had attempted land- 
scapes before him, had drawn, not from na- 
ture so much as from those conventional 
rules which, both in Europe and America, 
had supplanted nature. ]\Ir. Durand, already 
a skilful artist, had from the be<.nmiing gone 
to the forest, the mountain, the lake, and the 
glen, for his inspiration, and his one thought 
was to reprodu(;e in all its beauty of form, 
position, variety, and color, nature as its per- 
fection gladdened his eyes. Mr. Durand 
was born in Jefferson, N. J., Aug. 21, 171)fi. 
His father was a watchmaker and in a small 
way an engraver of cyphers, coats of arms, 
and designs upon silver and gold. The son 
had from early childhood an insatiable taste 
for the arts of design, and when a mere lad, 
was remarkable for the felicity of his designs 
for the plate, &c., of his father's customers, 
and for his deftness and skill in transferring 
them to the metal. He had also trii'd his 
hand at engraving and jirinting watch pa- 
pers and other little sketches which he trace<l 
on thin sheets of copjier hannneied out fntm 
spare pennies. He acquired a very thorough 
knowledge of every branch of the engraver's 
art under Mr. IMaverick, whose partner he 
afterwards became, and attained the reputa- 



324 



THE ARTS OF DESIGN IN AMERICA. 



tion of being the finest engraver of the New 
World, and the peer of the best in Europe, 
by his engraving of Vanderlyn's "Ariadne," 
before he had gained any considerable repu 
tatiou as a painter. He had been, however, 
for years secretly trying his powers as a 
painter, before he had tlie courage to show 
his pictures to any one. He was thirty 
years old when he exhibited his first paint- 
ing — a porrrait of his child — at the Academy, 
but from that time forward, the exhibition of 
each ye:ir always contained one or two of 
tliem, and his truthfulness to nature, the 
care and fidelity of his drawing, and liis ex- 
quisite taste in color, have made his pictures 
a perpetual delight. In 1844, he was chosen 
vice-president, and in 1845 president of the 
National Academy, and was reelected each 
year till 1801, when he declined in order to 
bring about the reelection of Prof Morse. 
Though now (1872) in his 7Gth year, Mr. 
Durand is still active as ever, and paints as 
well as he did thirty years ago. His land 
scapes are widely known and highly prized. 

Thomas Cole, bora in England, Feb. 1, 
1801, died in Catskill, N. Y., Feb. 11, 1848, 
was the associate and intimate friend of 
Durand, till his death, all too soon, severed 
the ties that bound them together. He came 
to this counlry at the age of eighteen, and 
though for some years of his early profes- 
sional career he had to struggle with poverty 
and hardships, yet he soon received from 
Durand, Trumbull, and Dunlap that cordial 
recognition and encouragement which ena- 
bled him to triumph overall ditficulties. His 
tastes in landscai)e, though equally true to 
nature with Durand's, were attracted to a 
diiferent phase of her many-sided glories. 
Durand was essentially a painter of nature 
in repose and quiet. The gentle grass cov- 
ered slopes, the drowsy forests at noon tide, 
the calm lake whose placid bosom reflects 
the foliage of the hills, the gently flowing 
river, the meadows covered with kine, were 
the subjects in wiiich Durand has always 
delighted. Cole, on the contrary, preferred 
to depict the mountains riven by earth- 
quakes, the varied hues of the storm cloud, 
the fierce torrent and cataract, and the 
waters lashed into fury by the mighty wind. 
If he painted the forest, it must be when the 
Frost King had decked it in its gorgeous 
parti-colored hues. 

Without losing at any time his fondness 
for nature, his poetic temperament led him 



to embody it in those grand allegorical pic^ 
tures, in which he has combined perfect 
fidelity to the great truths of nature with a 
higher and sublimer significance, as in his 
series of the " Rise, Progress, and Fall of 
Empire," his beautiful epic of tlie " Voyage 
of Life," and his not quite finished group, 
" The Cross and the World." 

Though cut off in his prime. Cole has left 
a reputation which in some respects has 
never been surpa^sed in this country. Thos. 
Doughty, the third of the trio of our found- 
ers of the American School of landscape 
art, (born in Philadelphia July 19, 1793, and 
died in New York, July 24, 185G) was not 
the peer of either Durand or Cole. The 
influence of the old conventional school 
which thought nature needed to be improved 
before she was presentable, and perhaps, too, 
the lack of that lofty genius which enabh d 
the others to overleap conventional rnhs, 
kept him in bondage throughout his career. 
Still his landscapes possess a large mea-ure 
of poetic beauty. He did not enter on his 
]irofession till he was nearly twenty -eight 
years of age. 

Daniel Huntington, born in New York, 
Oct. 14, 1816, a pupil of Morse, and Elliott, 
IS one of the most versatile and accomplished 
of American artists. He has painted, and 
w^ith eminent success in every case, portraits, 
historical, allegorical, and genre piece?;, and 
landscapes of wonderful beauty. His "Mer- 
cy's Dream," " Christiana and her Children," 
" The Shepherd's Boy," " The Marys at the 
Sepulchre," " The Good Samaritan," " Icha- 
bod Crane and Katrina Van Tassel," " The 
Republican Court," Chocurua Peak," " Sow- 
ing the Word," and his numerous portraits 
of the highest style of art, all give evidence 
of the great scope of his powers. Mr. 
Huntington was President of the National 
Academy from 18G2 to 1870. 

Charles Loring Elliott, born in Scipio, N. 
Y., in Dec. 1812, died at Albany, Aug. 2-3, 
18G8, was for more than twenty years be- 
fore his death regarded as the most eminent 
portrait painter in this country, succeeding 
almost without any interval to the great 
reputation of Innian. Some of his male 
heads have never been surpassed in vigor 
and thorough soulfulness. 

George A. Baker, of New York, is equally 
distinguished for his heads of women and 
children. Henry Peters Gray, Ijorn in New 
York in 1819, holds a high jiosition as a 



PAINTING, SCULrXUUK, AND K.NGUAVING. 



325 



painter of" portraits, and of small pictures 
of (/ptire and history. His " Pride of the 
Yillaife." " Building of the Ship," " Venus 
and i'aris," etc., are adniirahle. Mr. Gray 
was President of the Academy 1870-1871. 
Tliomas P. Rossiter, born in Sept. 1818, 
died in 1871, was a man of rare gifts in art, 
and had painted many large instorical and 
scriptural pieces of great merit. Arthur F. 
Tait is ])articularly hapi)y in pictures of 
game and sporting life, a i)ranch successfully 
ibllnwed hy the hue AV'illiam Hanney. Thos. 
Hicks, horn Oct 18, 18"i.'>, is among the 
most ])0, ular of the present group of por- 
trait painters in New York, He completed 
in 18()0. a large jiicture of the authors of the 
United States, Edwin White's great pic- 
ture of" U ashington Resigning his Commiss- 
ion," painted for the legislature of Maryland, 
is a fair example of this artist's style and 
class of subjects. 

Emanuel Leutze, born in "Wurtemburg, 
IMay 24, 1816, died in Washington, U. C, 
July 18, 18' 8, was, perhaps, the best of our 
hisorical painters. From his 15th to his 
28th year, he resided in Philadelphia, but 
then went abroad to study art, and remained 
eighteen years. He returned to the United 
States in 1859, and painted many pictures 
on topics connected with American Revolu- 
tionary and later history. 

1'. F. liothermel, born July 8, 1817, of 
Philailelphia, is eminent in historical sub- 
jects. The Lambdins, of Philadelphia, father 
and son, hold a distinguished place in the 
art, the elder as portrait painter, the latter 
as painter of poetical and dramatic scenes. 

F. (). C. Darley has achieved a world- 
wide fame, by his designs and book illustra- 
tions, Notliing can surjiass, in beauty of 
conception, his charming outline drawings 
from Irving's "Rip Van Winkle" and 
" Sleepy Hollow," or his compositions from 
Judd's novel, " Margaret," He has illus- 
trated a fine edition of Cooper's works in 
thirty-two volumes, and Dickens' works in 
fifty-six volumes, as well as numerous minor 
works. John W. Ehninger has been most 
successful in the same walk with Darley, be- 
sides which he has made many happy genre 
])ictures in oil. E. D. E. Green is justly 
lamous for the classic beauty of his female 
heads ; J. T. Peele for his dainty pictures 
of childhood ; Rowse and Colyer for their 
charming heads in crayon ; W. J. Hays for 
his animal subjects ; Eastman Johnson for 



his donu'stif passages of negro and other 
humble life ; Healy and Lang for brilliant 
portraituie ; James Hamilton for marine 
views ; Wenzler and Stone for their female 
heads, and JNIay in historical subjects. 

Among the eminent artists of a somewhat 
younger class, tlie first ['lace as a landscape 
painter must, we think, be given to Frederic 
E. Church, born at Hartford, IMay, 1826. 
A i)upil of Thomas Cole, he has all his mas- 
ter's genius, with an e(pially careful industry 
in thoroughly finishing his work. His " >ii- 
agara Falls" achieved for him the highest 
reputation, and his " Heart of the Andes," 
" Cotopaxi," " The Icebergs," and "Rainy 
Season in the Tropics," have m dntained it. 

J. F. Cropsey, born in Staien Island, 
Feb. 18, 1823, has also an excellent reputa- 
tion, both in Europe and America, as a land- 
scape artist. He resided in England from 
1856 to 1863. J. F. Kensett is a little old- 
er, having been bora in 1818. He was at 
first a bank note engraver. His first scenes 
and mountain views are greatly admired. 
L. R. IMignot, whose tropical atmospheres 
and vegetation are wonderfully faithful, now 
resides abroad, as does F. R. Gignoux, a 
native of France, but resident for nearly 
thirty years in the United States, and first 
President of the P)rooklyn Art Academy. 
His " Niagara by Moonlight," and " Niaga- 
ra in Winter," are both very beautiful. 'Ihe 
Hart brothers, William and James IM., of 
Scotch birth, have won high fame by their 
landscapes. Albert Bierstadt has inmortal- 
ized himself by his large paintings of Rocky 
Mountain Scenery, his views in the Yo- 
Semite, etc. He has a very high reputation 
abroad. Our list would be incomplete wiih- 
out the names of Gilford, Casilear, Hub- 
bard, Webber, Gay, Brown, Sliattuck,Iniiess, 
Colman, and the lamented T. Buchanan Read, 

We pass now to a brief glance at the re- 
markable performance of our young laiid in 
the noble art of Sculi)ture, a peiforniance 
confessedly surpassed by no modern school. 

Sculpture, as the more costly art, and as 
the less intelligible to the po})ular eye, of 
course foUoxved painting in its progress 
among us as elsewhere. The surprise is 
that it should have followed so speedily and 
with such grand strides. It is possible that 
this happy result may have sprung in a meas- 
ure from the circumstance that our first for- 
eign visitors and instructors in marble art 
were men of the highest genius, instead of 



326 



THE ARTS OF DESIGN IN AMERICA. 



the tliird-rate talent only wliichi our early 
painters Lrouglit to us. It is seldom amiss 
to make a good start, and much is saved 
where there is nothing left to be unlearned. 

One of our first heralds of the chisel ap- 
peared in 1791, when Ceracchi, an eminent 
Italian sculptor, arrived at Philadelphia. He 
was scarcely less celebrated as a revolution- 
ist than as an artist, and leaving France when 
the dangers there grew too thick around 
him, he marched over to the New World, 
with a scheme for building us a grand mar- 
ble monument to Liberty. His project was 
submitted to Congress, which was then in 
session, but that body supposed that the 
public funds could be employed, at the mo- 
ment, more advantageously in the cause of 
Liberty, than in honoring her with sculptured 
shrines. Washington, however, gave his 
personal assent to the idea, and lieaded a 
private subscription, by means of which it 
was hoped the required thirty thousand dol- 
lars could be procured. Not an inch, though, 
of the proposed liundred feet of stone ever 
rose from the ground. Instead of the mon- 
ument, the sculptor employed his chisel upon 
busts ; and, among others, executed fine por- 
traits of the commander-in-chief, of Alex- 
ander Hamilton, of Thomas Jefterson, Geo. 
Clinton, John Jay, and I'aul Jones. 

On returning to France, Ceracchi's red 
republicanism reappeared in a madder form 
than ever, and he plotted to take the hated 
life of Napoleon, then first consul, even in 
the sanctity of his own studio, and while he 
should be sitting for his bust. He was after- 
ward guillotined on a charge of complicity 
in the famous scheme of the " infernal ma- 
chine." 

Yet earlier than the time of Ceracchi's 
residence in the United States, Iloudon, a 
celebrated French sculptor, was invited to 
visit this country for the express purpose of 
perpetuating in marble the form and features 
of Washington. The result of his visit was 
the full-length statue which now adorns the 
vestibule of the Capitol at Pachmond, in 
Virginia. The sculptor's legend on this 
work reads thus : " JF'ait par Iloudon, Cito- 
ycn Franrais, 1788." The Father of his 
country is here represented of life size, and 
in the military style of the Kevolution. The 
figure stands, resting on the right foot, hav- 
ing the left somewhat advanced, with the 
knee bent. The left hand rests on a bundle 
of fasces, on which hang a military cloak and 
a small sword, a plough leaning near. 



Another noble statue of AVashington, by 
Canova, adorned the Capitol of North Car- 
olina, at Paleigh, until that edifice was un- 
happily destroyed, and the statue with it, 
by fire, in 1831. 

Of our native sculptors, perhaps the first 
who gave indications of talent above the 
humblest mediocrity, was John Frasee, born 
in Rockaway, in New Jersey, July 18th, 1790. 
A bust which he executed in 1824 of John 
AVells, now in Grace Church, in New York, 
was, says Dunlap in his " Arts of Design," 
the first portrait in marble ever attempted in 
the United States. Ceracchi's works were 
probably only modelled here, and were after- 
ward put into stone at home. Frasee made 
excellent busts of Chief Justice Marshall, of 
Daniel Webster, and others. "He had ad- 
vanced," adds Dunlap in 1834, "to a per- 
fection which leaves him without a rival at 
present in this country." To those who 
know any thing of our sculptors of this day 
we hardly need say, that Dunlap lived too 
long ago to witness the real beginning of its 
brilliant history, and that the talent of Frasee, 
excellent as it was, did not even indicate the 
high rank the art now holds. 

Shobal Yail Clevcnger, who was born at 
Middleton, Ohio, in 1812, and died at sea in 
1843, left behind him admirable busts of 
Webster, Clay, Allston, Van Buren, and oth- 
ers. His early death interrupted a progress 
which might have extended far toward the 
point which our sculptors have since reached. 

In the year 1805, on the 6th of September, 
Horatio Greenough was born in Boston, to 
fill a distinguished place in the annals of 
American sculpture. He received his earliest 
instruction from a resident French artist 
named Binon, and at the age of twenty went 
abroad. After modelling busts of John 
Quincy Adams, Chief Justice Marshall, and 
nuxny others, he executed, at the order of 
Fcnimore Cooper, the novelist, his Chant- 
ing Cherubs, Avhich was the first original 
group from the chisel of an American artist. 
This work was made in Florence, Avhere he 
had permanently established his studio at 
this time. In 1831 he went to Paris to 
model the bust of Lafayette, and thencefor- 
ward received liberal commissions, especially 
from his countrymen abroad. 

Through the influence of his generous 
friend. Cooper, he received a commission 
from Congress for the colossal statue of 
Washington, which now stands so grandly 
on the great laAvn opposite the east front of 



PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ENGRAVING. 



327 



the national Capitol. This work was com- 
pleted in 1843, after juany years of indus- 
trious toil. Amoiiir others of Greenouo;h's 
works at this period, were the Medora, 
commissioned by Mr. Robert Gilmor, of 
Baltimore ; the Venus Victrix, in the lioston 
Athenanim ; and the Ano;cl Abdicl. Li 185G 
he returned to the United States to superin- 
tend the jdacinjj; at Washington of his group 
of the liescue, symbolizing the triumph of 
civilization, which he had executed in fulfil- 
ment of an order from Congress. It is sup- 
posed that the vexatious delays in the arri- 
val of this work from Italy, together with 
the hurly-burly of American life, to which 
his long residence abroad had unaccustomed 
him, contributed to induce the attack of 
brain fever, fnMu tlie effects of which he 
died, December 18th, 1852. 

Greenough was educated at Harvard, and 
was a man of elegant attainments and accom- 
plished manners. He was engaged in the 
delivery of a course of art lectures in Boston 
at the time of liis last illness. An interest- 
ing memorial of Greenough was published 
by the poet Tuckerman in 1853. 

Tlie first general and popular acknowledg- 
ment, at home and abroad, of our success in 
sculpture, was won for us by the genius of 
Hiram Powers, and dated from the time 
of the exhibition of his Greek Slave. Not 
that this is by any means tlie best per- 
formance our artists have reached — for other 
men have followed with yet greater works; 
and among these others, one, of whom we 
shall speak, who lias cast oft' the convention- 
alities of old ai-t, and has, upon his own 
native soil, not that of Europe, gone beyond 
mere classic beauty, to the higher attainment 
of individual and national character and 
truth. Yet, as we have said, it was from 
the popular success of this statue of the 
Greek Slave that the world picked up and 
recognized the fact of the genius of Ameri- 
can sculptors. 

Powers is a native of Vermont; but, like 
most of our men of marble, resides ant! 
works abroad. He established himself long 
years ago in Florence, since wliich time we 
do not know that he has even visited Iiis 
native land. He is an industrious worker, 
and has made innumerable busts, in addition 
to his more ambitious ventures into the field 
of poetry and the imagination. It is, in- 
deed, in portraiture that his strength lies — 
with a temperament more practical than 
fanciful, and with a sympathy more with 



the rclil than with the ideal. His colossal 
figure of Eve, and his full-length statue 
of Calhoun, are preserved in South (.arolina. 
In the lamented Crawford, who was born 
in New York, March 2L'd, 1814, and who 
died in London, October 10th, 1857, we pos- 
sessed a man of stronger and nobler grasp 
than any of his predecessors; a man, who 
not only could liave done great things had he 
lived, but who did them even without living 
to the full years of ripe experience. Craw- 
ford was a poor boy, and began his art life 
in the humble occupation of a wood-carver. 
At the age of nineteen he was promoted to 
a place in the studio of Frasee and Launitz, 
in New York ; and, when about twenty-one, 
he went to Rome, and became a pupil of the 
Danish sculptor Thorwaldsen. Here he 
toiled so unremittingly that he is said to 
have modelled no fewer than seventeen busts 
in the space of ten weeks, besides copying, in 
marble, the figure of Demosthenes in the 
Vatican. In 1839, when in his twenty-fifth 
year, he exliibitcd his Orplieus, with tlie 
warm congratulations of his master, Thor- 
waldsen, and other sculptors, and with the 
hearty approval of the public. From that 
period his fame continued to increase up to 
the lionr of his untimely death. The Or- 
pheus — which is now in the Athenn?um in 
Boston — was followed by numerous admira- 
ble subjects from classical and scriptuial 
history. Among his greater and later works, 
was the remarkable statue, in bronze, of 
Beethoven, executed for the Boston Music 
Hall ; and the completion of which, at the 
foundry in Munich, was celebrated by a mu- 
sical festival, at which the royal family of 
Bavaria, and a grand concourse of people, 
assisted. Afterward came the equestrian 
statue of Washington, which now adorns 
the Capitol hill at Richmond ; where it was 
placed by the patriotism and liberality of 
the people of Virginia. This great work 
was east in bronze in Munich, and sent home 
in 1857. Its pedestal rests upon a star- 
shaped elevation, with six points, upon 
which statues of Jefferson, Henry, Lee, and 
other illustrious sons of ^'il•ginia are to be 
placed. He executed orders from Congress 
for various works for the new Capitol, some 
of the most successful of which were his 
designs for the pediment and the great 
bronze doors. His grandest efi'ort is, per- 
haps, the model for the colossal statue of the 
Genius of America, which is to be cast in 
bronze, and placed upon the pinnacle of the 



328 



THE ARTS OP DESIGN IN AMERICA. 



Capitol dome. Tliis statue represents a fe- 
male figure, fully draped, and posed with 
marvellous grace and dignity. During Iiis 
brief career, Crawford finished more than 
sixty works, many of them of the grand size ; 
besides Avhich, he left nearly as many 
sketches in plaster, and numerous designs, 
which Ids assistants are to complete. In 
1844, he married Miss Louisa "Ward, daugh- 
ter of the late Samuel Ward, of New York. 
Soon after his return from his last visit to 
his native land, in 1856, he was atilicted whh 
a cancerous tumor on the brain, from the ef- 
fects of which he died, after many months 
of acute suftering, borne with heroic pa- 
tience. 

Henry Kirke Brown, another of the most 
eminent of our American sculptors, was born 
at Leyden, Massachusetts, in 1814. lie 
began the study of portrait painting in 
Boston, when eighteen years of age ; and 
afterward he became a railroad engineer in 
Illinois, much to the injury of his health, 
and at length repaired to Italy to pursue the 
grave art of the statuary. Among his more 
famous works, are the well-known marbles 
of Hope; the Pleiades; the Four Seasons; 
the bronze statue of De Witt Clinton 
at Greenwood Cemetery, and the noble 
equestrian statue of Washington, which 
stands in Union square in the city of New 
York. Most, if not all of these works, were 
executed in Brooklyn, New York ; though, 
of late years, the artist has established him- 
self in a pleasant cottage at Newburgh, on 
the Hudson. Brown's Washington was the 
first statue ever cast in bronze in this 
country. 

I^ilmer, Avho is, perhaps, the most popu- 
lar of American scul])tors at the present 
day, was born in the interior of the state of 
New York. His noble character — no less 
personal than professional — is seen in all the 
interesting incidents of his career, from the 
Inimblest boyhood to his present high po- 
sition, social and artistic. In his younger 
days he toiled hard at the cai'penter's crafit ; 
afterward he rose to the dignity of a carver 
in wood, of models and moulds for stove 
and other iron castings ; and at length he 
became a cutter of cameos. He was a mar- 
ried man, with a young family gi-owing up 
around him, before he finally made that ven- 
ture in marble which has brought such 
high honor to himself and his country. 
His works are marked with singular sim- 
plicity, truth, and naturalness of treatment. 



and with a finish and delicacy of execution 
rarely obtained in obdurate stone. Among 
his chief and best known productions, are 
the fulblength, life-like figures of the In- 
dian Girl, and the White Captive ; the 
Moses, and many beautiful bas-reliefs and 
female heads, both portrait and ideal. An 
exhibition of his collected works was made 
a few years ago, with great advantage to his 
OAvn fame and fortune, and to the })ublic 
pleasure and profit. 

Launt Thompson, a young pupil of the 
eminent sculptor above named, is pursuing 
his art in New York with a success which 
promises the most enviable results. 

Clark Mills, a self-educated man, in the 
proper sense of the phrase, is known h\ his 
popular equestrian statues of Jackson and 
Washington, executed by the order of 
Congress, for the embellishment of the na- 
tional Capitol. 

Harriet llosmer, of Wateitown, Mass , 
has achieved a f:iir fame in this difiicult field 
of art. The approval which followed her 
;irst original work — a bust of liesper — in- 
duced her fatlier to send her to Kome, where 
shii has resided most of the time since 1852. 
ihe began her -studies in the eternal city, 
as a pupil of Gibson, in Hi52. Her first 
works abroad we! e the busts of Daphne and 
.Medusa, and a statue of QEnone. Afterward 
came the well-known reclining figure of 
Beatrice Cenci ; and, in 185-'), tlse cl. arming 
statue of Puck, and a pendant thereto, en- 
titled Will-o'the-Wisp. In 1859, slie com- 
pleted her statue of Zenobia in ( hains. 

Of our other sculptors of great j)romise, 
four have passt'd away within a few years •• 
Benjamin Paul Akers who died May 21, 
18GI; E. S. Bartholomew, at Naples, 
IMay 2, LSoS; and more recently Ivol)ert 
Ball Hughes, an Englishman i,y birth, 
who died in Boston, INlai-ch 5, 1808, and 
Robert E. Launitz, who died Dec. 2, ]870. 
Those most ])r(jniinent beside -those already 
named, are Randolpli Rogers, John Q. A. 
Ward, now vice-i:)resident of tl;e National 
Academy, William VV. Story, Thomas Ball, 
John Rogers, whose groups have done so 
much to popularize sculpture, Ives, Stone, 
iM osier, Albert de Groot, and Gould, a young 
countryman of ours now occupying a studio 
in Florence. Mr. Gould has recently sent to 
this country an ideal statue " '1 he West 
Wind," wdiich for its perfect embodiment 
of a poetic conception has no su]ierior 
in modern sculpture. Among others, a 



X 



SaVj^slJW^ 






»^?%i . -"r', 



/5^«.^S',tf\;-^ 



^^->-^ 








Tlie above engravings, representing tlie Seasons, are from Uio Farmer's Almanac, sliowing the 
derson stylo of engraving; tlic opposite i)age, engraved from slvctches about Newport, R. I. l)y A, 
Jocelyn, illustrates the improvement in tlio art. 



IL 



332 



PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ENGRAVING. 



young woman of color, Edmonia Lewis, are 
still dimliing the heights that lead to fame. 

The love of pictures, so general among our 
people of all grades, has been greatly fos- 
tered and cultivated, of late years, by the 
universal diffusion of engravings. Besides 
the best of this class of works, more acces- 
sible examples, in the firm of book illustra- 
tions, and especially in illustrated magazines 
and newspapers, liave been scattered, through 
a cheap press, broadcast over the land, and 
liave penetrated its remotest corners, doing 
the labors of the missionary in the great 
cause of art. It is true that these heralds — 
the pictorial papers, at least — are not always 
the best possible teachers ; yet have they 
cleared the way for greater things to fol- 
low, and it is gratifying to know that they 
ai'c themselves every day reaching toward a 
higher standard. It would, indeed, be quite 
beyond the power of our mathematics, to 
cipher out the good effect upon the art 
progress of the nation, of even one of our 
best pictoi'ial magazines, with the immense 
audience which they are wont to address; 
such a magazine, for example, as that of the 
Harpers^read, or at least seen, every month, 
by millions of people. 

This grand aggregate of the good influ- 
ence of the graver, is gained through the 
agency, not of the ambitious steel-plate, but 
the humble wood-cut. The art of work- 
ing on wood — which has thus of late be- 
come the chief medium of the engraver, and 
lias almost superseded all other mediums — 
has, though an old art, so greatly improved 
during the eighty years life of our republic, 
that it may fairly be said to have grown up 
with it, and in a great degrco from it. 

The general demand among us for cheap 
art, and the general ability to buy, at least, 
such cheap art, obviously required the wood- 
cut; and so the wood-cut — which had kept 
its humble place from a period even far 
beyond the invention of types — was brought 
from its obscurity, and made — in our own 
hands, as nuich as in those of any people — 
to fill its present exalted office. 

The art was, really, almost reinvented in 
America, and soon after the great Ilevolu- 
tion, when Dr. Anderson, in 1794, left his 
materia medica, and set up in New York as 
a wood-engraver. Anderson's first consider- 
able performance was the repetition, in a 
work called the " Looking-(Tlass," of some 
cuts by Bewick. Some of these pictures he 
executed on type metal, and only a portion 



of them on the wood-block. For these he 
had to invent his own tools, and then manu- 
facture them. lie continued to improve, 
and all through liis professional career he 
contributed greatly to develop the resour- 
ces of the art, and to put it upon the track 
of its present mature power. In 1812, the 
art was introduced and successfully prac- 
tised in Boston by Abel Brown, and in 
Philadelphia by William Mason. 

About the year 1826, Mr. Adams entered 
the profession, and by his industry and 
skill gave it a great impetus toward the per- 
fection to which it has since been brought. 
The innumerable illustrations which he pro- 
duced in his superb pictorial edition of the 
Bible, published by the Harpers, called 
forth all the talent which the country pos- 
sessed in this direction, and exercised it to 
yet greater excellence. This great work 
served, also, no doubt, to promote the popu- 
lar appreciation of the art, now so univer- 
sally manifested in tlie demand for illus- 
trated books and pictorial papers of all 
kinds. From the tir^e of Mr. Adams, the 
number of our engravers on wood has 
steadily and rapidly increased ; and so, too, 
has the quality of their work, until the 
present day shows us pictures on wood 
which are, in many respects — as in delicacy 
of finish, softness of texture, and vigor of 
expression — quite equal, if not supeiior to 
the best examples of work on copper or steel. 
The greater cheapness of the wood-block ; 
its capacity of use, in printing with the 
type (which metal plates do not possess) ; 
and the ease with which it may be dupli- 
cated by stereotyping or by electrotyping — 
have caused it to supersede copper and steel- 
plates in a great measure, except for very 
large and costly subjects, and for bank note 
engraving. The invention, in recent times, 
of Lowry's '' ruling machine ;" of improv- 
ed methods of printing, as in the process 
called "overlaying," by means of which the 
nearer parts of the picture are made to re- 
ceive a stronger pressure than the more dis- 
tant portions ; and various mechanical aids — 
have contributed to the present woffderful 
perfection of the art among us. The coun- 
try now possesses a host of excellent wood 
engravers, who find full and remunerative 
employment. 

For the finer class of Avood-engravings, 
box-wood (imported chiefly from Germany) 
is used ; while, for coarser and larger work, 
that of the pear-tree will answer, and some- 




FIRST MAP ENGRAVED IN THE UNITED STATES IN RAISED LETTERS. 




MAP OF TUE PRESENT TIME IN RAISED LETTERS. 



THE ARTS OF DESIGN IN AMERICA. 



333 



times even that of the apple-tree, beech, and 
even mahopmy and ])inc. The wood is cut 
across the ends of the fibre, of the thickness 
of type; and after beinc; sniootldy phmed, 
a thin covering of wliite is rubbed over the 
surface ; after wliich the drawing to be en- 
graved is made upon it with a lead pen- 
cil, or with India-ink, or both combined. 
The block is then cut away with the graver, 
in such manner as to leave the lines of the 
drawing all in relief, like type. On copper 
or steel, on the contrary, the drawing is sunk 
into the plate, and is necessarily printed with 
greater slowness and care, and at a greater 
cost. In engravings printed in colors, a 
separate block is made for each tint. 

Copper-plate engraving is an art as old, 
almost, as xylography or wood-cutting. A 
picture upon this metal is preserved in Ger- 
many of as ancient a date as 1461. Instead of 
the simple wooden blocks of other days, our 
cotton manufacturers now print their calicoes 
from copper plates of cylindrical form, by 
which improvement the fabrics are made in- 
finitely more beautiful and greatly cheaper. 
Most of the larger print-works employ skil- 
ful artists and engravers to produce their de- 
signs, paying them large salaries for their 
labors. In some establishments thousands 
of dollars are thus profitably expended each 
year. Copper-plate engraving, after reaching 
the highest degree of excellence, both at 
home and abroad, has, within the present 
century, given way in a great measure to 
the superior capacity of the steel plate, a 
capacity revealed to the world and developed 
in the highest degree by Jacob Perkins, of 
Newburyport, in Massachusetts. Mr. Per- 
kins, Avho began his experiments about 1805, 
may, indeed, almost be said to have invented 
steel engraving, since the metal had been 
used only once before his time, in an English 
print in Smith's " Topographical Illustrations 
of Westminster." Mr. Perkins discovered 
the present invaluable processes by which 
the steel plate is so hardened after being 
engraved, that by the pressure upon it of 
otlier soft plates, the picture can be trans- 
ferred in relief and again repeated so as to 
duplicate the work to any extent. The first 
impression in relief from which duplicates 
of the original engraving arc made, is taken 
upon a soft steel cylinder by repeated roll- 
ings over the hardened plate. By this pro- 
cess any bank note vignettes can be trans- 
ferred, in combination, at will, from the sep- 
arate original plates to the steel cylinder, and 
20* 



from that to other plates for the printer. 
The product is thus greatly cheapened, inas- 
much as all the pictures, the central vignette, 
the end scene or portrait, and the bottom or 
tail piece, usually put upon a bank note, can 
be furnished for the cost of a special engrav- 
ing of one of them. Mr. Perkins' system 
is employed throughout England and the 
continent of Europe, no less than all over 
the United States. By it the art of bank 
note engraving has been so perfected among 
us that only the highest skill and the costliest 
machinery can now produce successful coun- 
terfeits. Nothing remained but to insure the 
bank note against the wonderful power of 
the art of photography, and this security our 
engravers and paper makers have provided. 
In 1858-9 the principal bank note engravers 
of the country formed themselves into two 
associations, the American and the National 
Bank Note Companies, and in the early 
years of the National Banks, they prepared 
for the government the elaborate engravings 
of the National Bank Notes, as well as the 
simpler plates of the Legal Tender Notes. 
These notes and National Bank notes hav- 
ing now become the only bank circulation 
of the country, they are prepared by the 
government. Among the successful Ameri- 
can steel engravers of bank notes and other 
works, are Durand, Smillie, Cheney, 8ar- 
tain, Danforth, Dick, CasUear, and Alfred 
Jones. Engraving on copper or steel is 
practiced in its most simple form, called 
line engraving, by covering the face of the 
polished metal with a thin surface of melted 
white wax ; on this the sketch is transferred by 
laying, face down, a tracing of the design in 
black lead pencil upon the wax, and subject- 
ing it to a heavy pressure ; the lines are 
then seen distinctly upon the wax when the 
paper is removed. The workman then with 
a fine graver makes thelines through upon the 
metal ; after which the wax is melted off" and 
the engraver proceeds to complete the work 
by cutting the lines to the proper depth and 
shade. The graver, when in use, is pressed 
forward, cutting a furrow and raising burrs 
on each side. The burr, pushed up by the 
graver in its progress, is removed by the 
scraper. Lines are softened by rubbing over 
with a smoothly pointed burnisher. In 
some instances the burrs made by the finest 
etching needles being allowed to remain, 
produce a pleasing effect, seen in some of 
liembrandt's engravings. The parallel lines 
that are sometimes required in series are 



334 



PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ENORAVINO. 



cut by a ruling machine. The fainter shades, 
too delicate for the graver, are scratched 
In with a needle. 

In the stippling or dotted style, the effect 
is produced by dots made in curved lines, 
with the graver. The more closely the dots 
are grouped together, the darker the shade, 
and the whole effect is more like painting 
than the line engraving. In the shadows of 
the limbs of the human figure it is much 
used, and sometimes in portraits the line and 
stipple are combined with good effect. 

The style called etching is practised upon 
other metals, also upon glass. By this pro- 
cess the coating of wax is formed of white 
wax. Burgundy pitch, and asphaltum, and is 
applied in silk bags, through which the com- 
position oozes. When the plate is covered it is 
held over a smoking lamp until the wax is cov- 
ered with lamp-black, llie lead pencil design 
is then laid upon this lamp-black and pressed. 
The lines are then drawn through the wax, 
and nitric acid with four parts water 
is poured upon the plate. This remains 
until the fainter portions of the sketch 
are corroded. The acid is then poured off 
and the plate washed with water. An appli- 
cation of lamp-black and turpentine, called 
stopping, is applied with a camel's hair 
brush to those portions sufficiently corroded ; 
a reapplication of the acid eats deeper into 
those parts that require deeper lines. This 
process of stopping is repeated until the 
work is complete. Being then cleaned of 
the wax, those portions of the plate that re- 
quire it are gone over Avith the graver, and 
not unfrequently the shades are stippled. 

Aquatinta is a French invention of 1662, 
and takes its name from the resemblance it 
has to water colors on India-ink drawings. 
After the design is etched in outline and the 
wax removed, a solution of Burgundy pitch 
in alcohol is poured over the plate as it lies in 
an inclined position. The alcohol evaporat- 
ing, the pitch remains. The design is then 
drawn with a gunmiy syrup called the burst- 
ing-ground, which is applied only wherever a 
shade is wanted. The whole is then covered 
with a turpentine varnish ; water being left 
on it for fifteen minutes, the bursting-ground 
cracks open and exposes the copper. The 
etching process is then pursued. Sometimes 
colors are applied and printed from the plate ; 
but Avhen there are different tints, it is cus- 
tomary to use a distinct plate for each one. 

The mezzotinto, or half-painted style, was 
introduced into England by Prince Rupert. 



The invention has been ascribed to Sir Chris- 
topher Wren, The plate is roughed up by 
running over its surface little toothed wheels 
of different degrees of fineness, called cradles, 
which by a rocking motion are caused to 
raise little burrs, pointing in different direc- 
tions. The whole plate being thus made 
rough, the burrs are rubbed off with scrapers, 
wherever light shades are required, and the 
shades are deepened by increasing the burrs. 
The effect is fine where dark grounds are 
desired. This method combined Avith etching, 
produces an improved style. Some mezzo- 
tints are noAV prepared for the trade by a 
machine. The prints Avear much better on 
steel than on copper. 

Admirable examples of these branches of 
the art may be seen in the superb landscape 
Avorks of Smillie, especially those from the 
four pictures of Cole's Voyage of Life, in 
Durand's Avorks after Vanderlyn's, in our 
many beautiful illustrated books, in the pub- 
lications of the late American Art Union, and, 
as already intimated, in the dainty vignettes 
wliich embellish our bank notes. 

In the art of die sinking — a process con- 
ducted in a similar manner to that already 
described of the transfer in relief of the im- 
pression from a hardened plate or plug of 
steel to a soft plate, and from that again, 
Avhen hardened, to yet another — many admi- 
rable Avorks have been produced. Excellent 
examples may be seen in the medals of All- 
ston, Stuart, and other subjects executed for 
the American Art Union by the late C. C. 
Wright. 

By the assistance of the electrotype pro- 
cess, the Avork of the engraver is noAv repeat- 
ed, in as many copies as may be desired, 
each of the copper transcripts thus produced 
being an absolute duplicate of the original 
plate or block. It is these electrotyped cop- 
ies Avhich are noAV used by the printer, the 
same picture sometimes on several presses at 
once, Avhile the original Avood block is pre- 
served untouched, except to form the mould 
for other copies in metal Avhen they may be 
required. The effect of this poAver of per- 
fect and inexpensive repetition of engraved 
blocks has been to reduce the cost of picto- 
rial illustrations to a point within the com- 
pass of the most unpretending purse, and 
thus to send good examples of the engraver's 
art to the remotest and humblest corners of 
the land. 

What may be the consequences of the 
many processes, noAV more or less perfected, 



THE ARTS OF DKSION' l.V AMERICA. 



r^!\- 



for tlie nieclianical production of engraving 
by the aid of photogi-ai)hy, it is hardly pos- 
sible to imagine : not other than advantage- 
ous, however, even to the engravers them- 
selves, since their field of labor will be high- 
er, if not broader, when their pictures shall 
be, as they promise to be, not- only drawn 
for them on their plates and blocks by pho- 
tography, but even etched and engraved be- 
sides. 

In the art of lithography, or drawing upon 
stone, a steady advance may be witnessed ; 
though our works of this class cannot yet 
claim comparison with those of the conti- 
nent of Europe. 

The introduction of the daguerreotype, the 
perfection to which the art has been brought 
in the skilful hands of American operators, 
and the immense extent to which it is used 
among us, (apart from its share in the work 
of other aits), have had, no doubt, a most 
wonderful influence upon our art progress. 
Furnishing pictures which are, through their 
cheapness, accessible to all classes, it has 
worked, like the engraving, as an elementary 
instructor, while its trutlifulness has been a 
constant lesson to tlie artist himself Better 
pictin-es have, unquestionabl}^, been painted 
through the hints of the daguerreotype and 
photograph ; and many people who, but for 
them would never have dreamed of pictures, 
have become intelligent lovers and liberal 
patrons of the arts. 

The art of color printing is not very new, 
but it is only within a few years past that it 
has been brought to such perfection by the 
processes of chromo-lithography as to be 
able to reproduce paintings, within certain 
limitations of size and color, so exactly as to 
make it difficult to distinguish the copies from 
the original painting. The process has other 
limitations even than these ; it requires slow 
and careful, almost painful manipulation 
sometimes for months, and the printer must 
be himself an artist, at least in his taste and 
his knowledge and skill in the blending of 
colors. He will even, at the best, meet with 
frequent fliilures ; but notwithstanding all 
these limitations, chromo-lithography, as 
now practiced by the best artists, is a boon 
to the world second only to the sun pictures. 
It has made it possible for persons of small 
means and but just developing taste for art, 
to obtain gems of art, every way superior to 
the average copies of celebrated pictures, 
and thus awaken a love for the really beau- 



tiful which will grow until it makes iho hum- 
ble purchaser in time, a munilicent patron 
of art. The process as now practised by 
Messrs. Colton, Zahm and Roberts, L. Prang 
& Co., E. Ketterlinus & Co., and others, re- 
quires a very searching and accurate analy- 
sis of the colors and combinations of color 
which will produce the required effect of the 
picture selected for copying, and tlien an 
accurate copy of the picture in outline hav- 
ing been made on stone it is printed first 
with a single uniform tint. Then by suc- 
cessive printings each time from a dilli-rent 
stone, the colors and combinations are laid 
on, the utmost care being taken to make the 
register perfect each time so as to give the 
perfect copy of the original witliout blurring 
or commingling the colors unduly. Between 
each printing ample time must be given for 
the pigments to dry and harden. After all 
the printings are done, the picture is var- 
nished and then embossed or subjected to 
pressure on a grained surface of stone or 
metal, by which process the glossy lights are 
broken, the hai'd outlines softened, and the 
appearance of canvas is given to it. If all 
these steps have been properly taken, and 
guided by real artistic taste and knowledge, 
the picture once mounted and framed will 
have all the effect of the original. The cost 
of production, which is very considerable, is 
greatly reduced on each copy, from the fact 
that five hundred, one thousand, or more, 
can be printed from the same plates, and 
though there will be some defective copies, 
yet with projier care, the greater part will 
be perfect. 

We must not, in ever so cursory a glance 
at the history of the arts, forget the service 
of our academies and schools of painting, 
little as some affect to think of art academies 
— so far, at least, as their honorary charac- 
ter is concerned. 

The first attempt to found an institution 
of this nature in the United States, was 
made in Philadelphia, in 1791, by Charles 
Wilson Peale, the father of the painter, 
Rembrandt Peale. The elder Peale was a 
very energetic laborer in the cause of art, all 
through his long life. This first attempt of 
his to found an academy, was seconded by 
the Italian sculptor Ceracchi, who was in the 
country at the time. The attempt failed, 
however, from some cause or other, and a 
second and rather more fortunate venture 
was made in 1794, when the Columbianura 



336 



PAINTING, SCULPTURE, AND ENGRAVING. 



was established. This society lived a year, 
held one exhibition, and was forgotten. 

In 1802, some art-loving citizens of New 
York, headed by Edward Livingston, found- 
ed the New York, afterward the American 
Academy of Fine Arts. There were so few 
artists in this society, and the governing in- 
fluence was so little of a professional charac- 
ter, that it was an academy of art only in 
name, and quite failed in its office of an acad- 
emy. The necessary result was an inefficient 
life, until it was, in due time, superseded by 
a better organized establishment. This re- 
sult followed in 1826, in the institution of 
the present National Academy of Design. 

The National Academy, thus founded by 
Morse, and his brother artists of the period, 
has steadily advanced to this day in position 
and usefulness, and now numbers among its 
academicians and associates nearly all the 
leading painters of the land. Its annual ex- 
hibitions have been prepared, without inter- 
ruption, from 1826 until now, with a cata- 
logue of works extended gradually from less 
than two hundred, to over eight hundred, 
and with an aggregate of receipts from less 
than nothing up to six or seven thousand 
dollars annually. The academy has always 
supported free (evening) schools for the study 
uf the antique statuary, and the living models ; 
schools, to which any student has access, 
when coming with the required preparatory 
knowledge of the use of the crayon. Mem- 
bership in the academy, except in the grade 
of " student," is rewarded only to professional 
artists, and then by ballot, as a mark of hon- 
orary distinction. The progress of art in 
America during the last forty or fifty years 
cannot be better seen than in the continued 
growth of the National Academy, and in its 
present large and varied exhibitions as com- 
pared with those of days gone by. An art 
academy was founded in Brooklyn, N. Y., in 
1867, which is in a very flourishing condition. 

The Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts 
in Philadelphia is doing a good work, though 
it is not so fully an association of artists only 
as is the National Academy at New York, 



Conducted in part by laymen, it labors under 
some of the disadvantages of the old super- 
seded American Academy. It was founded 
as early as 1807, and is now a flourishing 
and most viseful institution, keeping a valu- 
able permanent gallery always open to the 
public view, and providing besides an annual 
display of the current productions of our 
artists. It possesses also a fine collection of 
casts from the antique, gratuitously accessi- 
ble to all students. 

The art gallery of the Athenaeum in Bos- 
ton, serves, in a measure, the purposes of an 
academy in that city. Of late years Acad- 
emies of Art have sprung up in some form, 
and with more or less success, in many other 
of our chief cities, as in Baltimore, Charles- 
ton, Brooklyn, Chicago, St. Louis, Cincin- 
nati, and elsewhere, giving us a fair prom- 
ise of jncture galleries and facilities for art 
study, as general and as liberal as our wants 
demand. 

Besides these institutions for the use of the 
profession itself, there is happily a rapid ex- 
tension throughout the Union of drawing 
schools for all classes of the population. 
Professorships of drawing are being intro- 
duced into our universities and colleges, and 
a higher standard is being everywhere set 
up in our seminaries of all grades. Schools 
of Design for women are springing up in our 
larger cities, and such an institution has 
been in successful operation in connection 
with the Cooper Union of New York for 
thirteen or fourteen years past, under the 
highest promise of successful result. When 
the principles of art become universally 
known to us, as we have good cause to be- 
lieve they soon will be, we shall realize the 
fact not only in the increased excellence and 
fame of our pictures and our sculptures, but 
in the higher beauty, utility, and value of 
our manufactures and fabrics of all kinds, 
from the rarest luxury to the simplest article 
of necessary use. In another and less ma- 
terial sense we shall feel it and enjoy it, in 
breathing the air of a more refined and more 
beautiful social and national life. 




^^/L^^6-7^y /^^:^y'^y?^z^ilyL^^ 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



CHAPTER I. 

EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT IN THE 
COLONIAL PERIOD. 

INTRODUCTION. 

The origin, nomenclature, and early pe- 
culiarities of the systems, institutions, and 
methods of instruction adopted in the origi- 
nal colonies, which now constitute a portion 
of the United States of America, will be 
found in the educational institutions and 
practices of the countries from which these 
colonies were settled — modified by the edu- 
cation, character, motives of emigration, and 
necessities of the settlers themselves. 

The earliest eftbrt to establish an education- 
al institution in the English dominions in 
America, was made under the auspices of 
King James I, and by contributions of mem- 
bers of the Church of England from 1618 to 
1623. In a letter addressed to the Arch- 
bishops, he authorizes them to invite the 
members of the Church throughout the king- 
dom to assist " those undertakers of that 
Plantation [Virginia], with the erecting of 
some churches and schools for the education 
of the children of those barbarians" [the 
Aborigines] and of the colonists. Under 
these instructions, a sum of £l5U0 was col- 
lected for the erection of a building for a col- 
lege at Henrico — a town whose foundations, 
or site even, cannot now be certainly deter- 
mined, but which according to the best author- 
ities was situated near Varina on Cox's Island, 
about fifty miles above Jamestown. Author- 
ity was given by the Company to the Gov- 
ernor to set apart 10,000 acres of land for 
the support of the college, and one hun- 
dred colonists were sent from England to 
occupy and cultivate the same, who were to 
receive a moiety of the produce as the profit 
of their labor, and to pay the other moiety 
toward the maintenance of the college. In 
1620, George Thorpe was sent out as super- 
intendent, and 300 acres of land was set 
apart for liis sustenance. Other donations 



and legacies were made for the endowment 
of this institution of learning. 

In 1619, the Governor for the time be- 
ing was instructed by the company to see 
"that each town, borough, and hundred 
procured by just means a certain number 
of their children to be brought up in the 
first elements of literature; that the most 
towardly of them should be fitted for college, 
in the building which they purposed to pro- 
ceed as soon as any profit arose from the 
estate appropriated to that use ; and they 
earnestly required their help in that pious 
and important work." In 1021, Rev. Mr. 
C^opeland, chaplain of the Royal James, on 
her arrival from the East Indies, prevailed 
on the ship's company to subscribe £100 
toward a " free schoole" in the colony of 
Virginia, and collected other donations in 
money and books for the same purpose. 
The school was located in Charles City, as 
being most central for the colony, and was 
called the " East India School." The com- 
pany allotted one thousand acres of land, with 
five servants and an overseer, for the mainten- 
ance of the master and usher. The inhabitants 
made a contribution of £ 1 500 to bull d a house, 
for which workmen were sent out in 1622. 

The " college" and " free school" thus 
projected and partially endowed were in the 
style of the " college" and " free school" and 
the " free grammar school" of England, and 
were intended to be of the same character as 
the college afterward established at Cam- 
bridtre, and the institution for which " the 
richer inhabitants" of Boston in 1(;3G sub- 
scribed toward " the maintenance of a free 
schoolmaster," and the same as, according to 
Governor Winthrop, in his journal, was erect- 
ed in Roxbury in 1645, and other towns, and 
for which every inhabitant bound sojne 
house or land for a yearly allowance for- 
ever, and many benevolently disposed per- 
sons left legacies in their last wills, and the 
towns made " an allowance out of the com- 
mon stock," or set apart a portion of land 



338 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



"to be improved forever, for the mainten" 
ance of a free schoole forever." 

The same leading idea can be traced in 
the educational policy of the Dutch West 
India Company — which bound itself, in re- 
ceiving its charter of colonization, "to main- 
tain good and fit preachers, schoolmasters, 
and comforters of the sick." The company 
recognized the authority of the established 
Church of Holland, and the establishment 
of schools and the appointment of school- 
masters rested conjointly with the company 
and the classis (ecclesiastical authorities) of 
Amsterdam. When the company granted 
a special " Charter of Freedom and Exemp- 
tions" to the "Patroons," for the purpose 
of agricultural colonization, they were not 
only to satisfy the Indians for the lands 
upon which they should settle, but Avere to 
mate prompt provision for the support of 
a minister and schoolmaster, that thus the 
service of God and zeal for religion might not 
grow cold, and be neglected among them. 
In 1633, in the enumeration of the compa- 
ny's officials at ]\Ianhattan, Adam Roeland- 
sen is mentioned as the schoolmaster, and 
that school, it is claimed, is still in existence 
in connection with the Reformed Dutch 
Church of New York. In the projected 
settlement at New Amstel on the Delaware, 
the first settlers were encouraged to proceed 
by certain conditions, one of which was that 
the city of Amsterdam should send thither 
"a proper person for a schoolmaster;" and 
we find among the colonists who embarked, 
" Evert Pietersen, who had been approved, 
after examination before the classis, as school- 
master." In these early efforts to establish 
schools, we trace the educational policy of 
the Reformed Church of Holland as indi- 
cated by the synod of Wesel in 1568, and 
matured at the synod of Dort in 1618, by 
which the training of Christian youth was 
to be provided for — "I. In the house, by 
parents. II. In the schools, hy schoolmas- 
ters. III. In the churches, brj ministers, 
elders^ and the catechists especially appoint- 
ed/or this purpose.^'' Owing in part to the 
commercial purposes entertained by the 
companies having charge of the coloniza- 
tion of New York, Virginia, and some other 
portions of the country, and to the edu- 
cational and religious institutions of the 
colonists being not so much a matter of do- 
mestic as of foreign policy, these institu- 
tions never commanded the regular and 



constant attention of the local authorities, 
or of the settlers themselves. 

The outline and most of the essential feat' 
ures of the system of common schools now 
in operation in the New England states, and 
the states which have since avowedly adopt- 
ed the same policy, will be found in the 
practice of the first settlers of the several 
towns which composed the original colonies 
of Massachusetts, Connecticut, and New Ha- 
ven. The first law on the subject did but 
little more than declare the motive, and make 
more widely obligatory the practice which 
already existed in the several neighborhoods 
and towns, Avhich had grown up out of the ed- 
ucation of these colonists at home, and the cir- 
cumstances in which they Avcre placed. They 
did not come here as isolated individuals, 
drawn together from widely separated homes, 
entertaining broad differences of opinion on 
all matters of civil and religious concernment, 
and kept together by the necessity of self- 
defence in the eager prosecution of some tem- 
porary but profitable adventure. They came 
after God had set them in fEimilies, and they 
brought with them the best pledges of good 
behavior, in the relations which father and 
mother, husband and wife, parents and chil- 
dren, neighbors and friends, establish. They 
came with a foregone conclusion of perma- 
nence, and with all the elements of the social 
state combined in vigorous activity — every 
man expecting to find or make occupation 
in the way in which he had been already 
trained. They came with earnest religious 
convictions, made more earnest by the trials 
of persecution ; and the enjoyment of these 
convictions was a leading motive in their 
emigration hither. The fundamental articles 
of their religious creed, that the Bible w-as 
the only authoritative expression of the di- 
vine will, and that every man was able to 
judge for himself in its interpretation, made 
schools necessary, to bring all persons " to a 
knowledge of the Scriptures," and an under- 
standing " of the main grounds and princi- 
ples of the Christian religion necessary to 
salvation." The constitution of civil gov- 
ernment adopted by them from the out- 
set, Avhich declared all civil officers elective, 
and gave to every inhabitant Avho would take 
the oath of allegiance the right to vote and 
to be voted for, and which practically con- 
verted political society into a partnership, in 
which each member had the right to bind 
the whole firm, made universal education 



EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT IN THE COLONIAL PERIOD. 



339 



identical with self-preservation. But aside 
from these considerations, the natural and 
aoknowledixcd leaders in this enterprise — 
the men who, by their religious character, 
wealth, social position, and previous expe- 
rience in conducting large business oper- 
ations, commanded public confidence in 
church and commonwealth, were educated 
men — as highly and thoroughly educated 
as they could be at the best endowed free 
and grammar schools in England at that 
period ; and not a few of them had en- 
joyed the advantages of her great univer- 
sities. These men would naturally seek for 
their own children the best opportunities 
of education which could be provided ; and 
it is the crowning glory of these men, that, 
instead of sending their own children back 
to England to be educated in grammar 
schools and colleges, these institutions were 
established here amid the stumps of the pri- 
meval forests ; that, instead of setting up 
" family schools" and " select schools" for 
the ministers' sons and magistrates' sons, the 
ministers and magistrates were found, not 
only in town meeting, pleading for an allow- 
ance out of the common treasury for the 
support of a public or common school, and 
in some instances for a " free school," but 
among the families, entreating parents of all 
classes to send their children to the same 
school with their own. All this was done 
in advance of any legislation on the subject, 
as will be seen from the following facts 
gleaned from the early records of several of 
the towns first planted. 

TOWN ACTION IN BEHALF OF SCHOOLS. 

The earliest records of most of the towns 
of New England are either obliterated or 
lost, but among the oldest entries which 
can now be recovered, the school is men- 
tioned not as a new thing, but as one of the 
established interests of society, to be looked 
after and provided for as much as roads 
and bridges and protection from the Indians. 
In the first book of records of the town of 
Boston, under date of April 13, 1G34, after 
providing by ordinance for the keeping ..f 
the 'cattle by " brother Checsbrough," " it 
was then generally agreed upon tliat our 
brotlier Philemon Purmont shall be entreat- 
ed to l^ecorae schoolmaster for the teaching 
and nurturing of children with us." This 
was doubtless an elementary school, for in 
163G we find a subscription entered on 
the records of the town " by the richer 



inhabitants," " for the maintenance of a free 
schoolmaster, for the youth with us — Mr. 
Daniel Maude being now also chosen there- 
unto." Mr. Maude was a clergyman, a title 
at that day and in that community which 
was evidence of his being an educated man. 
This "free school" was, in the opinion of the 
writer, not necessarily a school of gratuitous 
instruction for all, but an endowed school 
of a higher grade, of the class of the Eng- 
lish grammar school, in which many of the 
first settlers of New England had received 
their own education at home. Toward the 
maintenance of this school, the town, in 

1642, in advance of any legislation by the 
General Court, ordered " Deer Island to be 
improved," and several persons made be- 
quests in their last wills. Similar provision 
can be cited from the early records of Salem, 
Cambridge, Dorchester, and other towns of 
Massachusetts Bay. 

The early records of the town of Hartford 
are obliterated, but within seven years after 
the first log-house was erected, thirty pounds 
are appropriated to the schools, and in Aj)ril, 

1643, it is ordered "that Mr. Andrews shall 
teach the children in the school one year," 
and "he shall have for his pains £16, and 
therefore the townsmen shall go and inquire 
who will engage themselves to send their 
children ; and all that do so, shall pay for one 
quarter, at the least, and for more if they do 
send them, after the proportion of twenty 
shillings the year ; and if they go any week 
more than one quarter, they shall pay six- 
pence a week ; and if any would send their 
children and are not able to pay for their 
teaching, they sliall give notice of it to the 
townsmen, and they shall pay it at the town's 
charge." Mention is also made of one " Goody 
Belts," who kept a " Dame School" after the 
ftishion of Shenstone's "schoolmistress" at 
Leasower, in England. Similar entries are 
found in the town records of Windsor and 
Wethersfield in advance of any school code 
by the colony of Connecticut. 

The records of the town of New Haven are 
full of evidence of the interest taken by the 
leading spirits of the colony, particularly by 
Governor Theophilus Platon and Rev. John 
Davenport, in behalf of schools of every grade, 
and of the education of every class, from the 
apprentice boy to those wlio filled the high 
places in church and state. The first settle- 
ment of the colony was in 1638, and within a 
year a transaction is recorded, which, while 
it proves the existence of a school at that 



340 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



early period, also proclaims the protection 
which the first settlers extended to the indi- 
gent, and their desire to make elementary ed- 
ucation universal. In 1639, Thomas Fugill 
is required by the court to keep Charles 
Higinson, an indentured apprentice, " at 
school one year ;" or else to advantage him 
as much in his education as a year's learning 
comes to. In 1641, the town orders "that 
a Free School be set up," and " our pastor, 
Mr. Davenport, together with the magistrates, 
shall consider what yearly allowance is meet 
to be given to it out of the common stock 
of the town, and also what rules and orders 
are meet to be observed in and about the 
same." To this school "that famous school- 
master," Ezekiel Cheever,* "was appoint- 
ed," " for the better training up of youth in 
this town, that, through God's blessing, they 
may be fitted for public service hereafter, 
in church 'or commonwealth." Not con- 
tent with a Grammar School, provision was 
early made for " the relief of poor scholars 
at the college at Cambridge," and in 1645 
forty bushels of wheat were sent forward for 
this purpose, and this was followed by other 
donations, and by a richer consignment of 
young men to enjoy the advantages of the 
institution. In 1647, in the distribution of 
home lots, it was ordered in town meeting, 
that the magistrates " consider and reserve 
what lot they shall see meet, and most com- 
modious for a colh'ge, which they desire may 
be set up so soon as their ability will reach 
thereunto." Among the active promoters 
of education and schools, the name of Gov- 
ernor Eaton, in connection with Mr. Daven- 
port, is particularly prominent. In 1652, 
he calls a meethig of the magistrates and 
elders "to let them know what he has done 
for a schoolmaster ;" that he had written a 
letter to one Mr. Bower, a schoolmaster of 
Plymouth, and another to Rev. Mr. Lan- 
dron, a scholar; and many of the town 
thought there would be need of two school- 
masters — " one to teach boys to read and 
write," as well as the " Latin schoolmaster." 
At another time he reports his correspond- 
ence with a teacher in Wethersfield, then 
with one at ol<l Plymouth, and again with 
one at Norwalk, " so that the town might 
never be without a sufficient schoolmaster." 
He seems to have been considerate of the 
health of the teachers, and proposes to ex- 



*See Barnard's American Teachers and Educators. 
vol. i., art. ''Ezekiel Cheever." 



cuse one " whose health would not allow 
him to go on with the work of teaching," 
which he seems to regard as more laborious 
than that of the ministry. On another oc- 
casion he introduces to the committee a 
schoolmaster who has come to treat about 
the school. He is allowed £20 a year, and 
30 shillings for his expenses in travel, besides 
his board and lodgings. He wished to have 
liberty to visit his friends, " which he pro- 
posed to be in harvest time, and that his 
pay be such as wherewith he may buy 
books." These particulars show the consid- 
erate interest taken by men in local authori- 
ty in the school and the teacher, in advance 
of any directory or compulsory legislation 
of the colony of New Haven. It was owing, 
in part, to the timely suggestions of Rev. 
Mr. Davenport, that Gov. Edward Hopkins, 
of Connecticut, by his will, dated London, 
March 7, 1657, bequeathed the residue of his 
estate (after disposing of much of his estate 
in New England) to trustees residing in New 
Haven and Hartford, " in full assurance of 
their trust and faithfulness" in disposing of 
it, " to give some encouragement in those 
foreign plantations for the breeding up of 
hopeful youths both at the grammar school 
and college, for the public service of the 
country in future times." By the final dis- 
position and distribution of this estate three 
grammar schools were established at New 
Haven, Hartford, and Iladley, which are in 
existence at this day, among the oldest insti- 
tutions of this class in America. 

The early records of the several towns 
which subsequently constituted a portion of 
the colony of New Hampshire, exhibit evi- 
dence of a ditlerent character and spirit in 
the first settlers. The plantations on the 
Piscataqua river were made by proprietors 
from mere conmiercial motives, and the set- 
tlers were selected in reference to immediate 
success in that direction ; and in these settle- 
ments we find no trace of any individual or 
town action in behalf of education until 
after their union with the colony of Massa- 
chusetts, whose laws made the establishment 
of schools obligatory. 

In the early records of the Rhode Island 
and Providence Plantations, we find traces 
of the same educational policy which mark- 
ed the early history of towns in Massachu- 
setts and Connecticut. According to Cal- 
lender, in Newport, "so early as 1640, Mr. 
Lenthal was by vote called to keep a public 
school for the learning of youth, and for 



EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT IN THE COLONIAL PERIOD. 



341 



his encouragement there were granted to 
him and his heirs, one hundred acres of hmd, 
and four more for a house lot. It was also 
voted that one hundred acres should be ap- 
propriated for a school for encouragement 
of the poorer sort to train up their youth in 
learning. And Mr. Robert Lenthal, while 
he continues to keep school, is to have the 
bonetit thereof." The proprietors of other 
plantations reserved a portion of land for 
the maintenance of schools, and generally 
of a " free schoole ;" and " Mr. Schoolmas- 
ter Turpin," petitions the town of Provi- 
dence, that he and his heirs, so long as any 
of them should maintain the worthy art of 
learning, may be invested in the lands set 
apart for a school. 

These citations show the action of the 
towns independent of any general legislation 
by the several colonies of New England — 
action prompted by their own consciousness 
of the advantages of education in " Dame 
Schools," in "Free Schools," in "Grammar 
Schools" and in "Colleges" at home — aided 
by the presence among them of "masters" 
and "ushers," and also of "schoolmasters" 
and " schoolma'ams" willing to engage in 
the same vocations in the new townships and 
villages — stimulated by magistrates and min- 
isters, who had themselves received the best 
education that such schools could give in 
England, who inculcated the reading of the 
Scriptures as of daily obligation, and who 
believed that the foundations of the state 
should be laid in the virtue and intelligence 
of the whole people. 

COLONIAL LEGISLATION AND ACTION. 

We shall now notice briefly the legislation 
respecting children and schools of each of 
the colonies, in the order of their settlement. 

Virginia. — Although several attempts 
were made to establish " Free Schools" and 
a " College" in Virginia, by the Virginia 
Company and benevolent individuals, at an 
earlier day, the first general legislation re- 
specting the education of children by the 
Colonial Assembly was in 1631, when it was 
enacted : " It is also thought fit, that upon 
every Sunday the mynister* shall, halfe an 
hour or more before evening prayer, examine, 
cati'chise, and instruct the youths and igno- 
rant persons of his parish in the ten com- 



* la this and some other quotations wo have 
followed the orthography of the original. 



mandments, the articles of the beliefe, and in 
the Lord's prayer ; and shall diligentlie heere, 
instruct, and teach the catecliisme, sett forth 
in the book of Common Prayer. And all 
fathers, mothers, maysters, and mistrisses, 
shall cause their children, servants, or ap- 
prentices, which have not learned their cate- 
chisme, to come to church at the time ap- 
poynted, obedientlie to heare, and to be 
ordered by the mynister untill they have 
learned the same. And yf any of sayd 
fathers, mothers, maysters «k mistresses, 
children, servants, or apprentices, shall neg- 
lect their duties, as the one sorte in not 
causinge them to come, and the other in 
refusinge to learne as aforesayd, they shall 
be censured by the corts in these places 
holden." To secure the execution of this 
last clause, it is provided in the oath of the 
warden, taken before "the justices for the 
monthlie corts" — " they shall present such 
mastyrs and mistresses as shall be delinquent 
in the catechisinge the youth and ignorant 
persons. So help you God." 

In 1660 an attempt was made to found a • 
college for the supply of educated clergymen. 
" Whereas the want of able and faithful 
ministers in this country deprives us of those 
great blessings and mercies that always at- 
tend upon the service of God ; which want, 
by reason of the great distance from our 
native country, cannot in all probability be 
always supplied from thence : Be it enacted^ 
that for the advance of learning, education 
of youth, supply of the ministry, and pro- 
motion of piety, there be land taken for a 
college and free school with as much speed as 
may be convenient, houses erected thereon 
for entertainment of students and scholars." 
In the same year it was ordered that a peti- 
tion be drawn up by the General Assembly 
to the king for a college and free school ; and 
that there be his letters patent "to collect 
the charity of well disposed persons in Eng- 
land, for the erecting of colledges & schools 
in this countrye," and also to bestow univer- 
sities "to furnish the church here with min- 
isters for the present." And this petition was 
recommended to the right honorable Gov- 
ernor, Sir AVilliam Berkeley. Sir William 
does not appear, in his reply to the Lords 
Commissioners of Foreign Plantations, dated 
1670, to have been very kindly disposed to 
public schools of high or low degree. 

"Question 23. What course is taken 
about the instructing the people within 
your government in the Christian religion ; 



342 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



and what provision is there made for the pay- 
ment of your ministry ?" 

" Answer. The same course that is taken 
in England out of towns; every man accord- 
ing to his ability instructing his children. 
"We have forty-eight parishes, and our min- 
isters are well paid, and by my consent should 
be better if they would pray oftener and 
preach less. But of all other commodities, 
so of this, the worst are sent us, and we had 
few that we could boast of, since the perse- 
cution in Cromwell's tyranny drove divers 
worthy men hither. But 1 thank God there 
are no free schools, nor printing, and I hope 
we shall not have these hundred years ; for 
learning has brought disobedience and heresy 
and sects into the world, and printing has di- 
Tulged them, and libels against the best gov- 
ernment. God keep us from both !" 

In 1691, "the good design of building a 
free school and college for the encourage- 
ment of learning," was recognized, but it was 
not till 1693 that an act was passed locat- 
ing the college, for which a royal charter had 
been obtained April 8, 1692, with the title 
of William and Mary, at Middle Plantation, 
afterward Williainsburgh. Toward its en- 
dowment the royal founders granted £2000 
in money, land, and a revenue duty on to- 
bacco ; and the Assembly enacted an ex- 
port duty on skins and furs. The money 
grant of £2000 did not meet with much 
encouragement from the English Attorney 
General (Seymour) who was instructed to 
prepare the charter, who remarked to the 
Rev. James Blair, the agent of the colony 
for this purpose, that the money was wanted 
for other purposes, and that he did not see 
the slightest occasion for a college in Vir- 
ginia. The agent represented that the in- 
tention of the colony was to educate and 
qualify young men to be ministers of the 
Gospel, and begged Mr. Attorney would 
consider that the people of Virginia had 
souls to be saved as well as the people of 
England. "Souls!" said he; " damn your 
souls ! make tobacco." The plan of the 
building was designed by Sir Christopher 
Wren. The first commencement was held 
in IVOO, at which, according to Oldmixon, 
"there was a great concourse of people; 
several planters came thither in their coaches, 
and several sloops from New York, Pennsyl- 
vania and Maryland ; it being a new thing 
in America to hear graduates perform their 
academical exercises. The Indians them- 
selves had the curiosity to come to Wil- 



liamsburgh on this occasion*; and the whole 
country rejoiced as if they had some relish 
of learning." After the English fashion, the 
college had a representative in the General 
Assembly. As a quitrent for the land grant- 
ed by the Crown, the students and professors 
every year marched to the residence of the 
royal Governoi', and presented, and some- 
times recited, some Latin verses. On the 
breaking out of the Revolution the endow- 
ments of the college were cut off, and its 
constitution was somewhat changed. 

No general school law was established in 
Virginia until 1796, although a plan was 
proposed by Mr. Jefferson in 1779, which 
recognized three degrees of public instruc- 
tion, viz.: 1. Elementary schools for all chil- 
dren. 2. Colleges for an extension of in- 
struction suitable for the common purposes 
of life. 3. A university, an extension of the 
means of higher culture on the basis of the 
college at Williamsburgh. 

Scattered through the colony were schools 
in connection with churches, both Episcopal 
and Presbyterian, and in many families 
private teachers Avere employed, and in some 
cases sons were sent out to England to com- 
plete their education. 

Massachusetts. — In 1636, six years.after 
the first settlement of Boston, the General 
Court of the colony of Massachusetts Bay, 
which met in Boston on the 8th of Septem- 
ber, passed an act appropriating £400 to- 
ward the establishment of a college. The 
sum thus appropriated was more than the 
whole tax levied on the colony at that time 
in a single year, and the population scattered 
through ten or twelve villages did not ex- 
ceed five thousand persons ; but among them 
were eminent graduates of the university of 
Cambridge, in England, and all Avere here 
for purposes of permanent settlement. In 
1638, John Harvard left by will the sum of 
£779 in money, and a library of over three 
hundred books. In 1640 the General Court 
granted to the college the income of the 
Charlestown ferry; and in 1642 the Gov- 
ernor, with the magistrates and teachers and 
elders, were empowered to establish statutes 
and constitutions for the infant institution, 
and in 1650 granted a charter which still 
remains the fundamental law of the oldest 
literary institution in this country. 

In 1642 the attention of the General 
Court was turned to the subject of family 
instruction in the following enactment: — • 



EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT IN THE COLONIAL PERIOD. 



343 



" Forasimicli as the ijood education of 
children is of singular behoof and benefit to 
any coranionwealth ; and whereas many 
parents and masters are too indulgent and 
negligent of their duty in tliis kind : 

'• It is therefore ordered by this Court and 
the authority thireof, That the selectmen of 
every town, in the several precincts and 
quarters where they dwell, shall have a vigi- 
lant eve over their brethren and neighbors, 
to see, first, that none of them shall suffer so 
much barbarism in any of their families, as 
not to endeavor to teach, by themselves or 
others, their children and apprentices so 
much learning as may enable them perfectly 
to read tho English tongue, and knowledge 
of the capital laws, upon penalty of twenty 
shillings for each neglect therein ; also, that 
all masters of families do, once a week, at 
least, catechise their children and servants 
in the grounds and principles of religion, and 
if any be unable to do so much, that then, 
at the least, they procure such children or 
apprentices to learn some short orthodox 
catechism, without book, that they may be 
able to answer to the questions that shall be 
propounded to them out of such catechisms 
by their parents or masters, or any of the 
selectmen, where they shall call them to a 
trial of what they have learned in this kind ; 
and further, that all parents and masters do 
breed and bring up their children and ap- 
prentices in some honest lawful calling, labor 
or employment, cither in husbandry or some 
other trade profitable for themselves and the 
commonwealth, if they will not nor cannot 
train them up in learning to fit them for 
higher employments; and if any of the select- 
men, after admonition by them given to such 
masters of families, sliall find them still neg- 
ligent of their duty in the particulars afore- 
mentioned, whereby children and servants 
become rude, stubborn and unruly, the said 
selectmen, with the help of two magistrates, 
shall take such children or apprentices from 
them, and place them with some masters for 
years, boys till they come to twenty-one, 
and girls eighteen years of age complete, 
which will more strictly look unto and force 
them to submit unto government, according 
to the rules of this order, if by fair means 
and former instructions they will not be 
drawn unto it." 

In the same year the following general 
school law was enacted: — "It being one 
chief project of that old deluder, Satan, to 
keep men from the knowledge of the Scrip- 



tures, as in former times, keeping them in 
an unknown tongue, so in these latter times, 
by persuading from the use of tongues, so 
that at least the true sense and meaning of 
the original might be clouded and coiTupted 
with false glosses of deceivers ; and to the end 
that learning may not be buried in the grave 
of our forefathers, in church and common- 
wealth, the Lord assisting our endeavors : 

" /^ in therefore ordered by this Court and 
authority thereof, That everv townshij) with- 
in this jurisdiction, after the Lord liath in- 
creased them to the number of fifty house- 
holders, shall then forthwith appoint one with- 
in their town to teach all such children, as 
shall resort to him, to write and road, whose 
wages shall be paid, cither by the parents or 
masters of such children, or by the iidiabi- 
tants in general, by way of supply, as the 
major part of those who order the pruden- 
tials of the town shall appoint ; provided, 
that those who send their children be not 
oppressed by paying much more than they 
can have them taught for in other towns. 

^^ And it is further ordered, That where 
any town shall increase to the number of 
one hundred families or householders, they 
shall set uj) a grammar school, the masters 
thereof being able to instruct youths so far 
as they may be fitted for the university, and 
if any other town neglect the performance 
hereof above one year, then every such 
town shall pay five pounds per annum to 
the next such school, till they shall perform 
this order." 

With variousmodificationsastodetails, but 
with the same objects steadily in view, viz., the 
exclusion of "barbarism" from every family, 
by preventing its having even one untaught 
and idle child or apprentice, the maintenance 
of an elementary school in every neiglibor- 
hood where tliere were children enough to 
constitute a school, and of a Latin school in 
every large town, and of a college for higher 
culture for the whole colony, the colonial 
legislature, and the people in the several 
towns of Massachusetts, maintained an edu- 
cational system, which, although not as early 
or as thorough as the school code of Saxony 
and Wirtemberg, has expanded with the 
growth of the community in population, 
wealth, and industrial development, and 
stimulated and shaped the legislation and ef- 
forts of other states in behalf of universal edu- 
cation. 

The early records of the colony of Ply- 
mouth contain no trace of the zeal lor 



344 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



schools which characterized the colonies of 
Massachusetts Bay, Connecticut, and New 
Haven. In 1662 the profits of the codfish- 
cry were appropriated to the maintenance 
of grammar schools in such towns as would 
make arrangements for the same ; and in 
1669 towns having fifty families were au- 
thorized to raise by rate on all the inhabi- 
tants the sura of twelve pounds for this 
class of schools, " for as much as the mainte- 
nance of good literature doth much tend to 
the advancement of the weal and flourishing 
state of societies and republics." After the 
union of the two colonies under one charter, 
several towns in the old colony were fined 
for not complying with the provisions of the 
law of 1647 respecting children and schools. 
In addition to the grammar school which 
each town having one hundred families was 
obliged by law to maintain, to enable young 
men to fit for college, in several counties 
endowed schools were set up; and in 1763 
the first of that class of institutions, known 
and incorporated as academies, was estab- 
lished in the parish of Byfield in the town 
of Newbur}', on a legacy left by Gov. Wil- 
liam Dummer. Its objects were the same as 
those of the town grammar school, but its 
benefits were not confined to one town, nor 
was it supported in any degree by taxation. 

Rhode Island. — In this colony education 
was left to individual and parental care, no 
trace of any legislation on the subject being 
found in the proceedings of the General 
Assembly, except to incorporate in 1747 the 
" Society for the Promotion of Knowledge 
and Virtue," which was established in New- 
port in 1730 by the name of the " Company 
of the Redwood Library;" and in 1764 to 
grant the charter to the College of Rhode 
Island, which was first located in Warren, 
and in 1770 removed to Providence, and in 
1804 called, after its most liberal benefactor, 
Brown University. 

Connecticut. — In 1646, Mr. Roger Lud- 
low was requested to compile " a body of 
laws for the government of this common- 
wealth," which was not completed till May, 
1650, and is known as the code of 1650. 
The provisions for the family instruction 
of children and the maintenance of schools 
are identically the same as in Massachu- 
setts, and remained on the statute-book, 
with but slight modifications to give them 
more eflaciency, for one hundred and fifty 



years. In the chapter on " capital" of- 
fences, it is enacted that if any child above 
sixteen years of age, and of sulficient under- 
standing, shall curse or smite his father or 
motiier, he shall be put to death, " unless it 
can be sufficiently testified that the parents 
have been unchristianly negligent in the ed- 
ucation of such children." In the chapter 
respecting schools, the proposition made by 
the "Commissioners of the United Colonies," 
that it be commended to every family which 
" is able and willing to give yearly but the 
fourth part of a bushel of corn, or something 
equivalent thereto," "for the advancement 
of learning," was approved, and two men 
were appointed in every town to receive and 
forward the contributions. This was done 
in the larger towns of the colonies of Con- 
necticut and New Haven, from time to time, 
until ten of the principal ministers, in 1700, 
at Branford, brought each a number of books, 
and as they laid them on the table, declared — 
"■I give these hooks for founding a College in 
Connect/cut'" and on that foundation rose 
Yale College. To fit young men for the 
college at Cambridge, and subsequently for 
Yaie, in 1672 it was ordered by the Gen- 
eral Court, " that in every county there shall 
be set up a grammar school for the use of 
the county, the master thereof being able to 
instruct youths so far as they may be fitted 
for college ;" and to aid the county towns in 
maintaining their schools, six hundred acres 
of land were appropriated by the General 
Court to each, "to be improved in the best 
manner that may be for the benefit of a 
grammar school in said towns, and to no 
other use or end whatsoever;" and in 1677 
a fine of ten pounds annually is imposed on 
any county town neglecting to keep the 
Latin school. In 1690, the county Latin 
schools of Hartford and New Haven are de- 
nominated " Free Schools," probably in ref- 
erence to the partial endowment of schools 
of this class by the trustees of the legacy 
of Governor Hopkins. 

As early as 1700, the system of public 
instruction in Connecticut embraced the fol- 
lowing particulars : 

1. An obligation on every parent and 
guardian of children, " not to suffer so much 
barbarism in any of their families as to have 
a single child or apprentice unable to read 
the holy word of God, and the good laws of 
the colony ;" and also, " to bring them up to 
some lawful calling or employment," under 
a penalty for each offencCi 



EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT IN THE COLOKIAL PERIOD. 



345 



2. A tax of forty shillings on every thou- 
sand pounds of the lists of estates, was col- 
lected in every town with the annual state 
tax, and payable proportionably to those 
towns only which should keep their schools 
according to law. 

3. A common school in every town hav- 
ing over seventy families, kept for at least 
six months in the year. 

4. A grammar school in each of the four 
head county towns to fit youth for college, 
two of which grammar schools were free or 
endowed. 

5. A collegiate school, toward which the 
General Court made an annual appropriation 
of £120. 

0. Provision for the religious instruction 
of the Indians. 

The system, therefore, embraced every 
family and town, all classes of children and 
youth, and all the then recognized grades of 
schools. There were no select or sectarian 
schools to classify society at the roots, but 
all children were regarded with equal favor, 
and all brought under the assimilating influ- 
ence of early associations and similar scliool 
privileges. Here was the foundation laid, 
not only for universal education, but for a 
practical, political, and social equality, which 
has never been surpassed in the history of 
any other community. 

New Hampshire. — From 1623 to 1641, 
the early records of the first settlements 
within the present limits of New Hampshire 
exhibit no trace of educational enactments ; 
from 1641 to 1680, the school laws of Mas- 
sachusetts prevailed, and the presence of 
such men as Philemon Purmont and Daniel 
Maude, who were the first schoolmasters of 
that colony, must liave contributed to inaugu- 
rate the policy of local and endowed schools. 
When the necessities of the college at Cam- 
bridge were made known, the people of 
Portsmouth, in town meeting, made a col- 
lection of sixty pounds, with a pledge to con- 
tinue the same amount for seven years, '• for 
the perpetuating of knowledge both religious 
and civil among us and our posterity after 
us." In the original grants fir towns one 
lot was reserved for the support of schools. 

In 1680 New Hampshire became a sepa- 
rate colony, and in 1G93 the Colonial As- 
sembly enacted " that for the building and 
repairing of meeting houses, ministers' 
houses, and allowing a salary to a school- 
master in each town within this province, 



the selectmen shall raise by an equal rate 
an assessment upon the inhabitants ;" and 
in 1719 it was ordained that every town 
having fifty liouseholdcrs should be con- 
stantly provided with a schoolmaster to 
teach children to read and write; and those 
having one hundred should maintain a gram- 
mar school, to be kept by some decent 
person, of good conversation, well instructed 
in the tongues. In 1721 it was ordered that 
not only each town but each parish of one 
hundred families should be constantly pro- 
vided with a grammar school, or forfeit the 
sum of twenty pounds to the treasury of the 
province. This system of elementary and 
secondary instruction continued substantially 
until the adoption of the state constitution 
in 1792. 

In 1770 Dr. Wheclock removed a school 
which he had established in Lebanon, Con- 
necticut, tinder the name of " Moor's Indian 
Charity School," to the depths of the forests 
in the Avestern part of New Hampshire. 
Here, side by side with the school for 
Indians, he organized another institution, 
termed a college in the charter granted by 
Governor Wentworth in 1769, and which 
held its first commencement in l77l, with 
four graduates, one of whom was John 
Wheelock, the second president of the in- 
stitution, which was called Dartmouth Col- 
lege after Lord Dartmouth, one of the larg- 
est benefactors of the Charity School. 

At the close of the colonial period of our 
history, according to Noah AVcbster, the 
condition of the educational system in Con- 
necticut and New England was as follows: 

"The law of Connecticut ordains that 
every town or parish containing seventy 
householders, shall keep an English school, 
at least eleven months in the year; and 
towns containing a less number, at least six 
months in the year. Every town keeping 
a public school is entitled to draw from the 
treasury of the state a certain sum of money, 
proportioned to its census in the list of prop- 
erty which furnishes the rule of taxation. 
This sum might have been originally suf- 
ficient to support one school in each town 
or parish, but in modern times is divided 
among a number, and the deficiency of 
money to support the schools is raised upon 
the estates of the people, in the manner the 
public taxes are assessed. To extend the 
benefits of this establishment to all the in- 
habitants, large towns and parishes arc di- 



346 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



vided into districts, each of whicli is sup- 
posed able to furnish a competent number 
of scholars for one school. In each district 
a house is erected for the purpose by the 
inliabitants of that district, Avho hire a mas- 
ter, furnish wood, and tax themselves to pay 
all expenses not provided for by the public 
money. The school is kept during the win- 
ter months, when every farmer can spare his 
sons. In this manner, every child in the 
state has access to a school. In the sum- 
mer, a woman is hired to teach small chil- 
dren, who are not fit for any kind of labor. 
In the large towns, schools, either public or 
private, are kept the whole year ; and in 
every county town, a grammar school is 
established by law. 

" The beneficial effects of these institutions 
will be experienced for ages. Next to the 
establishments in favor of religion, they have 
been the nurseries of well-informed citizens, 
brave soldiers and wise legislators. A peo- 
ple thus informed are capable of understand- 
inix their rights and of discovering the means 
to secure them. In the next place, our fore- 
fathers took measures to preserve the repu- 
tation of schools and the morals of youth, 
by making the teaching them an honor- 
able employment. Every town or district 
has a committee, whose duty is to procure a 
master of talents and character ; and the 
practice is to procure a man of the best 
character in the town or neighborhood. The 
wealthy towns apply to young men of lib- 
eral education, who, after taking the bache- 
lor's degree, usually keep school a year or 
two before they enter upon a profession. 
One of the most unfortunate circumstances 
to education in the Middle and Southern 
states, is an opinion that school-keeping is 
a mean employment, fit only for persons of 
low character. The wretches who keep the 
schools in those states very frequently de- 
grade the employment ; but the misfortune 
is, public opinion supposes the employment 
degrades the man : of course no gentleman 
will undertake to teach children while in 
popular estimation he must forfeit his rank 
and character by the employment. Until 
public opinion is corrected by some great 
examples, the common schools, what few 
there are in those states, must continue in 
the hands of such vagabonds as wander 
about the country." 

"Nearly connected with the establishment 
of schools is the circulation of newspapers 
in New Ensrland. This is both a conse- 



quence and a cause of a general difi'usion of 
letters. In Connecticut, almost every man 
reads a paper every week. In the year 
1785, I took some pains to ascertain the 
number of papers printed weekly in Con- 
necticut and in the Southern states. I found, 
the number in Connecticut to be nearly eight 
thousand ; which was equal to that published 
in the whole territory south of Pennsylvania. 
By means of this general circulation of pub- 
lic papers, the people are informed of all 
political affairs ; and their representatives 
are often prepared to deliberate on proposi- 
tions made to the legislature. 

"Another institution favorable to knowl- 
edge is the establishment of parish libraries. 
These are procured by subscription, but they 
are numerous, the expense not being con- 
siderable, and the desire of reading universal. 
One hundred volumes of books, selected 
from the best writers, on ethics, divinity, 
and history, and read by the principal in- 
habitants of a town or village, will have an 
amazing influence in spreading knowledge, 
correcting the morals, and softening the 
manners of a nation. I am acquainted with 
parishes where almost every householder has 
read the works of Addison, Sherlock, Atter- 
bury. Watts, Young, and other similar 
writings ; and will converse well on the 
subjects of Avhich they treat." 

New York. — In the early history of the 
settlements of the New Netherlands, the 
school was regarded as an appendage of the 
church, and the schoolmaster was paid in 
part out of the funds of the government. 
Down to its organization as a royal province 
of England, a parochial school existed in 
every parish. In 1658 a petition of the 
burgomasters and schepens of New Amster- 
dam was forwarded to the AVest India Com- 
pany, in which " it is represented that the 
youth of this place and the neighborhood 
are increasing in number gradually, and 
that most of them can read and write, but 
that some of the citizens and inhabitants 
would like to send their children to a school 
the principal of which understands Latin, 
but are not able to do so without sending 
them to New England ; furthermore, they 
have not the means to hire a Latin school- 
master, expressly for themselves, from New 
England, and therefore they ask that the 
West India Company will send out a fit 
person as Latin schoolmaster, not doubting 
that the number of persons who will send 



EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT IN THE COLONIAL PERIOD. 



347 



their children to sucli teacher will from year 
to year increase, until an academy shall be 
furnied whereby this place to great splendor 
■will have attained, for which, next to God, 
the honorable company which shall have 
(SLMit such teacher here shall have laud and 
])raise." In compliai>ce with this petition, 
Dr, Alexander Carolus Curtius, a Latin 
master of Lithuania, was sent out by the 
company. The buvi^oniasters proposed to 
give him five hundred guilders annually out 
of the city treasury, witli the use of a liouse 
and garden, and the privilege of collecting 
a tuition of six guilders per quarter of each 
scholar. Dr. Curtius proved not to be a 
good disciplinarian, and parents complained 
to the authorities that " his pupils beat 
each other, and tore the clothes from each 
other's backs." The doctor retorted that 
he could not interfere, " as liis hands were 
tied, as some of the parents forbade him 
punishing their children." He accordingly 
gave up his place and returned to Holland, 
and was succeeded in the mastership by 
Rev. ^Egidius Luyck in 1G02. IJis school 
had a high reputation, and was resorted to 
by pupils from Virginia, Fort Orange, and 
the Delaware. 

After the establishment of the English 
authority, the governor claimed the privilege 
of licensing teachers even for the church 
schools, but no general school policy was 
established. Li I7u2 a free grammar scliool 
was founded and built on the King's Farm, 
and in 1732 a "Free School," for teaching 
the Latin and Greek and practical branches 
of mathematics, was incorporated by law. 
The preamble of the act of incorporation 
opens as follows : " Whereas the youtli of 
this colony are found by manifold experience 
to be not inferior in their natural genius to 
the youth of any other country in the 
Avorld, therefore be it enacted," etc. In 
1710, the Society for the I'ropagatitm of the 
Gospel in Foreign Parts established a 
charity school in connection with the Epis- 
copal church, whicli is still in existence, and 
is now known as the Trinity School. In 
1750, ('harles Dutens announced to the 
public " that he taught a school for the use 
of young ladies and gentlemen, whose love 
of learning might incline them to take 
lessons from him in French, at his house on 
Broad street, near the Long Bridge, where 
he also makes and vends finjjer and ear rinirs, 
solitaires, stay -hooks and lockets, and sets 
diamonds, rubies, and other stones. Science 



and virtue are two sisters, whicli the most 
part of the New York ladies possess," etc. 

Judge Smith, in his " History of the I'rov- 
ince of New York," when speaking of the 
action of the legislature for founding a col- 
lege in 1746, says : "To the disgrace of our 
first planters, who beyond comparison sur- 
passeil their eastern neighi)ors in opulence, 
Mr. Dehuicy, a graduate of the University 
of Cambridge (England), and Mr. Smith, 
were for many years the only academics in 
this province, except such as were in holy 
orders; and so late as the period we are now 
examining (1750), the author did not recol- 
lect above thirteen men, the youngest of 
whom liad his bachelor's degree at the age 
of seventeen, but two months before the pass- 
ing of the above law, the first toward erecting 
a college in this colony, though at a distance 
of above one hundred and twenty years after 
its discovery and settlement of the capital by 
Dutch progenitors from Amsterdam." 

In 175-1 a royal charter was obtained for 
a college in New York, with the style of 
King's College, which came into possession 
of a fund raised by a lotter\' authoi'ized for 
this purpose by the Assembly in 174G, and 
of a grant of land conveyed to its governors 
by Trinity Church in 1755. Out of this 
grant, Columbia College is now (1860) re- 
alizing an income of 860,000 a year. The 
first commencement was celebrated in 1758. 

" For the advantage of our new intended 
college" (King's), " and the use and orna- 
ment of the city," a number of eminent citi- 
zens of New York, in 1754, united in an 
association to form a library, which in 1772 
was incorporated with the title of the "New 
York Society Library." 

Maryland. — The first settlement was 
effected within the present limits of Mary- 
land in 1634; and in the years immediately 
following, we find no record of any marked 
individual or legislative effort to establish 
institutions of learning. The first act of the 
colonial Assembly is entitled a "Supplicatory 
Act to their sacred majesties for erecting of 
schools," which was passed in 1694, and re- 
pealed or superseded by an act entitled a 
" retitionary Act" for the same purpose. 
Appealing to the royal liberality, which had 
been extended to the neighboring colony of 
Virginia in the institution of the college, " a 
place of universal study," the Assembly ask, 
" that for the propagation of the Gospel, and 
the education of the youth of this province 



348 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



in good letters and manners, that a certain 
place or places for a free school or schools, or 
place of study of Latin, Greek, writing and 
the like, consisting of one master, one usher, 
and one writing-master or scribe to a school, 
and 100 scholars," be established in Arundel 
County, of which the Archbishop of Canter- 
bury should be chancellor, and to be called 
" King William's School ;" and a similar free 
school is asked for in each county, to be 
established from time to time as the re- 
sources of the several counties may sufBce. 
To increase the educational resources of the 
counties, in lVl7 it was enacted that an ad- 
ditional duty of twenty shillings current money 
per poll should be levied on all Irish servants, 
being papists, to prevent the growth of popery 
by the importation of too great a number of 
them into this province, and also an addi- 
tional duty of twenty shillings current 
money per poll on all negroes, for raising 
a fund for the use of public schools. In 
1723, "an act for the encouragement of 
learning, and erecting schools in the several 
counties," was passed, with a preamble set- 
ting forth that preceding Assemblies have 
had it much at heart, "to provide for the 
liberal and pious education of the youth 
of the province, and improving their natural 
abilities and acuteness (which seem not to 
be inferior to any), so as to be fitted for the 
discharge of their duties in the several sta- 
tions and employments in it, either in re- 
gard to church or state." By this act seven 
visitors are appointed in each county, with 
corporate powers to receive and hold estate 
to the value of £100 per annum; and they 
are authorized with all convenient speed to 
purchase, out of funds realized from revenues 
already set apart for this purpose, one hun- 
dred acres more or less, one moiety of which 
is to serve for making corn, grain, and pas- 
turage for the benefit and use of the master, 
who is prohibited growing tobacco, or per- 
mitting it by others on said farm. The 
visitors are directed to employ good school- 
masters, members of the Church of England, 
and of pious and exemplary lives and con- 
versation, and capable of teaching well the 
grammar, good writing, and the mathemat- 
ics, if such can be conveniently got, on 
a salary of £20 per annum, and the use of 
the plantation. In 1728 the master of each 
public school is directed "to teach as many 
poor children gratis as the majority of the 
visitors should order." 

Up to the establishment of the state gov- 



ernment in 1777, there was no system of 
common schools for elementary instruction 
in operation in Maryland. " A free school," 
like the free endowed grammar school of 
England, was established in a majority of 
counties, two of which were subsequently 
converted into colleges, that of Charlestown 
in Kent county, into Washington College in 
1782, and the second at Annapolis into St. 
John's College in 1784 — the former "in 
honorable and perpetual memory of his 
excellency General Washington, the illus- 
trious and virtuous commander-in-chief of 
the armies of the United States." 

In 1696, Rev. Thomas Bray, then residing 
in the parish of Sheldon, England, was made 
commissary of Maryland, to establish the 
Church of England in the colony. His first 
act was to inaugurate a plan of parochial 
libraries for the use of ministers in each 
parish. Through his influence, Princess 
Anne made a benefaction for this purpose, 
and in acknowledgment of the honor of 
having the capital of the province called 
after her- name (Annapolis), donated books 
to the value of four hundred pounds to the 
parish library, which he called "the An- 
napolitan Library." By his influence in 
England a plan of "lending-libraries" was 
projected in every deanery throughout the 
kingdom, and carried out. 

New Jersey. — In the history of New 
Jersey as a colony we find no trace of any 
general legislation or governmental action in 
behalf of schools. Scattered at wide in- 
tervals over the state were schools kept 
by clergymen in connection with their 
churches. 

In 1748 a charter of incorporation for the 
College of New Jersey was obtained from 
George II., during the administration of 
Governor Belcher, " for the instruction of 
youth in the learned languages and liberal 
arts and sciences." During the adminis- 
tration of Governor Franklin in 1770, a 
second college was chartered, with the name 
of Queen's (now Kutger's) College, as a 
school of theology for the lieformed Dutch 
Church. Neither of the institutions receiv- 
ed any aid from the government. 

Pennsylvania. — The frame of govern- 
ment of the province of Pennsylvania, dated 
April 25th, 1682, drawn up by William 
I'enn before leaving England, contains the 
following provision : " The governor and 



EDUCATIONAL DEVELOPMENT IN THE COLONIAL PERIOD. 



349 



provincial council shall erect and order all 
juiMic schools and reward the authors of 
useful sciences and laudable inventions in 
said province." In the laws agreed upon 
a few months later in the same year by the 
governor and divers freemen of the province 
in England, it is provided " that all children 
■within this province of the age of twelve 
years shall be taught some useful trade, or 
skill, to the end that none be idle, but that 
the poor may work to live, and the rich, if 
they become poor, may not want." In 1G83 
the governor and council in Philadelphia, 
'' having taken into their serious considera- 
tion the great necessity there is of a school- 
master in the town of Philadelphia, sent for 
Enoch Flower, an inhabitant of said town, 
who for twenty years past hath been exer- 
cised in that care and employment in Eng- 
land, to whom having communicated their 
minds, he embraced it upon the following 
terms : to learn to read English, 4s. by the 
quarter ;" to learn to read and write, 6s. ; 
read, write and cast accounts, 8s. ; for board- 
ing a scholar, £U) per year. In 1689 the 
Society of Friends established a Latin school 
of which George Keith was the first teacher. 
In 1725 Rev. Francis Alison, a native of 
Ireland, but educated at Glasgow, became 
pastor of the Presbyterian church in New 
London, in Chester county, and opened a 
school there, which had great reputation. 
He at one time resided at Thunder Hill, in 
Maryland, where he educated many young 
men who were afterward distinguished in 
the Ilevolutionary struggle. He was subse- 
quently Provost of the college at Philadel- 
phia. 

In 1749 F)eniamin Franklin published his 
" Proposals rein ting to the Education of 
Y'luth in Pennsylvania^^'' out of which ori- 
ginated subsequently an academy and char- 
ity school, and ultimately the University of 
Pennsylvania. At the liead of the English 
department of the academy in 1751 was Mr. 
Dove, wlio was then engaged in giving pub- 
lic lectures in experimental philosophy with 
apparatus — an early lyceum or popular lec- 
turer. 

In 174-3 the American I'hilosopliical So- 
ciety originated in a " Proposal for Promot- 
ing Useful Knowledge," published by Ben- 
jamin Franklin, which, after various forms 
of organization, took its present name- and 
shape on the 2d of January, 1769. 

In 1765 the Medical School originated 
with the appointment of Dr. Morgan to the 
21 * 



professorship of the theory and practice of 
physic; in 1767 it was fully organized, and 
in 1768 degrees in medicine were for the 
first time conferred. 

Among the denominational schools which 
grew up in the absence of any general 
legislation on the subject, was a Moravian 
school for boys at Nazareth in 1747, and for 
girls at Bethlehem 174 9, both of which are 
still in existence, and the latter, especially, 
since 1789, has been one of the most flour- 
ishing female seminaries in this country. 

Delaware. — In the early settlements of 
the Swedes and Dutch in Delaware, the 
policy of connecting a school with the 
church was probably imperfectly carried 
out, but there is no historical trace of its 
existence. The only school legislation of 
the colony extant, is an act incorporating 
" the Trustees of the Grammar School in the 
borough of Wilmington, and county of New 
Castle/' dated April 10, 1773. 

North Carolina. — In North Carolina for 
fifty^ years, the policy of the provincial au- 
thorities was to discourage all forms of re- 
ligious and educational activity outside of 
the Church of England, to the extent of for- 
bidding expressly the establishment of print- 
ing presses. The first act on record relat- 
ing to schools, in 1764, was "for the build- 
ing of a house for a school, and the residence 
of a schoolmaster in the town of Newbem" 
— appropriating the half of two lots, before 
set apart for a church, for this purpose. In 
1766 another act was passed incorporating 
trustees for this school, witb the preamble 
" that a number of well-disposed persons, 
taking into consideration the great necessity 
of having a proper school, or public seminary 
of learning established,, whereby the present 
generation may be brO'Ught up and instructed 
in the principles of the Christian religion, 
and fitted for the several offices and purposes 
of life, have at great expense erected a 
schooMiouse for this purpose ;" and provid- 
ing that tlie master of the school shall be 
" of the established Church of England, and 
licensed by the governor." Similar acts were 
passed in 17 70 and l779forschoolsat Edcnton 
and Hillsborough. In 1770 an act, reciting 
that a very promising experiment had been 
made in the town of Charlotte in the county 
of Meckleidmrg, with a seminary of learning 
"a number of youths there taught making 
great advancement in the knowledge of the 



350 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



learned languages, and in the rudiments of 
the arts and sciences, having gone to various 
colleges in distant parts of America," incor- 
porates the same with the name of Queen's 
College. This act was repealed by procla- 
mation in the next year, but in 1777 it was 
reincorporated by name of ** Liberty Hall." 
With the downfall of the royal authority, 
and the religious party which had swayed 
the colony, a new educational policy was 
inaugurated. 

South Carolina. — In the early history 
of the colony of South Carolina, as of several 
other colonies, the first efforts to establish 
schools were in connection with the predom- 
inant church of the settlers, i. e., of the 
Church of England, through the aid of the 
" Venerable Society for Propagating the 
Gospel in Foreign Parts." By the mission- 
aries of that society charity schools were 
established in several parishes, some of which 
•were afterward endowed by individuals, and 
incorporated by act of the legislature, and 
called "Free Schools." In I7l0 a free 
school of this character was established at 
Goosecreek, and in 1 7 1 2 in Charleston ; and 
by the general act of February 22, 1722, the 
justices of the county courts were author- 
ized to erect a free school in each county 
and precinct, to be supported by assessment 
on land and negroes. These schools were 
bound to teach ten poor children each, if 
sent by said justices. In 1 724, a memorial 
to the " Venerable Society" from the parish 
of Dorchester sets forth — " The chief source 
of irreligion here is the want of schools ; 
and we may justly be apprehensive, that if 
our children continue longer to be deprived 
of opportunities of being instructed, Chris- 
tianity will of course decay insensibly, and 
■we shall have a generation of our own as 
ignorant as the native Indians." The so- 
ciety sent out schoolmasters to this and 
other parishes, and about 2000 volumes of 
bound books. In 1721 Mr. Richard Beres- 
ford bequeathed to the parish of St. Thomas 
and St, Dennis, in trust, for the purpose of 
educating the poor, £6500; and in 1732 
Mr. Jiiehard Harris, for the same object, 
£1000, In 1728 Rev. Richard Ludlam be- 
queathed his whole estate to the parish of 
St. J^ames, which in 1778 amounted to 
£15,^^2. Other bequests for the same 
objects were made at different times before 
the Revolution. In 1743 Rev. Alexander 
Garden wrote to the society that the negro 



school consisted of thirty children, and in 
1750 that it was going on with all desirable 
success. In 1748 a library was founded in 
Charleston by an association of seventeen 
young men, whose first object was to collect 
new pamphlets and magazines published in 
Great Britain, but in the course of a year 
embraced the purchase of books. After 
many delays and refusals, an act of incor- 
poration was obtained in 1754. There ia 
but one older library in this country. 

Georgia. — The earliest effort to establish 
schools in Georgia was made by the Rev. 
George Whitefield. Before leaving England 
in 1737, he had projected an Orphan House, 
after the plan of that of Dr. Franke, at Ilalle, 
of which an account about that time ap- 
peared in English. His first visit to Savan- 
nah in 1738 satisfied him of the necessity 
of a charity school for poor and neglected 
children, and in the course of that year he 
returned to England to obtain his ordination 
as priest and collect funds for his educational 
enterprise. The trustees of the colony gave 
him five hundred acres of land upon which 
to erect his buildings. These were selected 
about ten miles out of Savannah, and on the 
25th of March, 1740, he laid the first brick 
of the house, which he called Bethesda, or 
House of Mercy, and opened his school in 
temporary shelters with forty children. In 
the fall of the same year he made a collec- 
tion and preaching tour in New England, 
during which he collected over £800 for his 
charity. After disasters by fire, etc., the 
Orphan House property was bequeathed to 
Selina, Countess of Huntingdon, in trust for 
the purposes originally designed, and subse- 
quently incorporated for this purpose. On 
her death, and after the Revolution, the legis- 
lature transferred the property to thirteen 
trustees, to manage the estate and make reg- 
ulations for an academy in the county of 
Chatham. Schools were established by the 
missionaries sent out by the Society for the 
Propagation of the Gospel at Savannah, Au- 
gusta, and Fredcrica, and by the Moravians 
and Huguenots in their respective settle- 
ments. 

RESULTS at the CLOSE OF OUR COLONIAL 
HISTORY. 

The educational systems and provisions 
of the colonial period of the United States 
were, especially in its earlier portion, closely 
connected with the ecclesiastical systems of 



REVOLUTIONARY AND TRANSITIONAL PERIOD. 



861 



the colonics. Schools were maintained by 
individual youth trained up in very many 
cases, because it was a duty to prepare use- 
ful future members of the church, which in 
some of the colonies was also the state. 

In three states, Massachusetts, Connecti- 
cut, and New Hampshire, it was very early 
made the legal duty of parents and towns 
to make provision for the education of youth. 
Elsewhere, such ctForts as were made, aside 
from the natural desire of parents to afford 
their children such an education as was suit- 
able to their rank in life, or such as would 
aid their subsequent progress and prosperity, 
were, generally speaking, put forth by clergy- 
men, ecclesiastical bodies, or pious laymen, 
for colonial institutions for secondary edu- 
cation were not very numerous, including 
the town grammar schools of New England, 
and a small number of endowed or free 
schools. In these two classes of institutions, 
a small number of pupils were prepared to 
enter college. A far greater numi)er of col- 
lege students, more especially in the middle 
and southern states, were prepared by clergy- 
men, who received each a small number of 
pupils into his family, as a means of secur- 
ing some additional incon)e. There were 
also a few private schools of considerable 
reputation and value. 

In connection with these educational agen- 
cies, the small parochial and social libraries, 
and the two or three associations for the 
increase and dissemination of science, should 
also be referred to. 

The institutions of superior education, 
established during the colonial period, were 
seven in number; namely. Harvard, Wil- 
liam and Mary, Yale, Nassau Hall, Rutgers, 
Brown, and Columbia. From these came 
forth nearly all the liberally educated men 
of that day, though it was a custom of a few 
of the wealthiest families of the day to grad 
uate their sons at a European university, 
Oxford or Cambridge being commonly se- 
lected. The colonial colleges, like the 
schools preparatory to them, were substan- 
tially church institutions, their pupils being 
the stock from which the clerical body was 
reinforced. 

It was not until the very close of the co- 
lonial period that a few special or profes- 
sional schools were established. A school 
of medicine, sufficiently entitled to the name, 
gave degrees in New York in 1769; a sort 
of theological seminary was founded in Penn- 
sylvania in 1778; while the first law school 



only arose the year after the peace of 1783. 
Professorships, however, in these departr 
ments, had afforded a certain amount of in- 
struction in all of them as part of the college 
course, long before ; indeed, from the foun- 
dation of the earliest colleges. 

Female education was comparatively neg- 
lected in the colonial period. Girls were 
taught housewifely duties far more assidu- 
ously than learning, and often depended 
upon home instruction for whatever educa- 
tion they received ; neither the common 
schools nor those for secondary education 
affording or being designed to afford accom- 
modation for them. 

That special supplementary training which 
at the present day does so much to alleviate 
the misfortunes of the blind, the deaf and 
dumb, and the feeble minded, was quite un- 
known, nor was the idea entertained that 
such a training was practicable. 



CHAPTER II. 

REVOLUTIONARY AND TRANSITIONAL 
PERIOD. 

The immediate effects of the war of the 
Revolution were adverse, and, in certain as- 
pects, disastrous to the interests of education. 
Dangers so great and imminent almost en- 
grossed all thought and absorbed all exertion 
and resources. Children, indeed, were not 
left without the instruction of the family and 
the local elementary school, and they were, 
thank God, everywhere surrounded with the 
most stirring exhibitions of heroic patriotism 
and the self-sacrificing virtues. But too gen- 
erally the elementary school and the teacher, 
never properly appreciated, gave way to 
more pressing and universally-felt necessities. 
Higher education for a time experienced a 
severe shock. The calls of patriotism with- 
drew many young men from the colleges and 
the preparatory schools, and prevented many 
more from resorting thither. The impover- 
ishment of the country, and the demand for 
immediate action, compelled others to relin- 
quish an extended course of professional 
study. In some cases the presence of armies 
caused a suspension of college instruction and 
the dispersion of faculty and students, and 
even converted the college buihlings into 
barracks. But the action and influence of 
this period were not wholly adverse or dis- 
astrous to schools and higher education. The 



352 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



public mind was stimulated into greatly in- 
creased activity — now, for the first time, as- 
suming a collective existence and national 
characteristics. The heart of the people was 
thoroughly penetrated by the spirit of self- 
sacrifice, in cheerfully bearing the burdens of 
society with diminished resources, and in re- 
pairing the waste and destruction of the war. 
The examples of wisdom and eloquence in 
council, and courage and heroism in the 
field, and of patient endurance of privation 
and hardship, and towering above all and 
outshining all, the colossal greatness and 
transparent purity of the character of AVash- 
ington — these were lessons for the head and 
the heart of a young nation, which amply 
coiupensated for the partial and tempoi-ary 
suspension of schools. Jn the discussion and 
reconstruction of political society, in fiaming 
constitutions and organic legislation, and in 
the disposition of unsettled territory, the im- 
portance of the elementary school, the acad- 
emy, and the college, was recognized and pro- 
vided for. 

Among the earliest to do justice to this 
great subject was Noah Webster, who, in a 
series of essays, first published in a New 
York paper, and copied extensively by the 
press in other parts of the country, and after- 
ward embodied in a volume with other fu- 
gitive pieces, advocated a liberal policy by 
the national and local governments in favor 
of a broad system of education. " Here every 
class of people should know and love the 
'laws. This knowledge should be ditfused by 
means of schools and newspapers ; and an at- 
tachment to the laws may be formed by early 
impression upon the mind. Two regulations 
are essential to the continuance of republican 
governments : 1. Such a distribution of lands 
•and such principles of descent and alienation 
as shall give every citizen a power of acquir- 
ing what his industry merits. 2. Such a sys- 
tem of education as shall give every citizen 
'an opportunity of acquiring knowledge, and 
fitting himself for places of trust." " Edu- 
cation should be the first care of a legisla- 
ture ; not merely the institution of schools, 
but the furnishing them with the best men 
for teachers. A good system of schools 
should bo the first article in a code of politi- 
cal regulations ; for it is much easier to in- 
troduce and establish an effectual system for 
preserving morals, than to correct by penal 
statutes the ill effects of a bad system. I am 
so fully persuaded of this, that I should al- 
most adore that great man who shall change 



our practice and opinions, and make it re- 
spectable for the first and best men to super- 
intend the education of youth." As speci- 
mens of the utterances of eminent public 
men on this subject, we cite the following : 

" Promote, as an object of primary import- 
ance, institutions for the general diffusion of 
knowledge. In proportion as the structure 
of a government gives force to public opin- 
ion, it is essential that public opinion should 
be enlightened." George Washington. 

" The wisdom and generosity of the legis- 
lature in making liberal appropriations in 
money for the benefit of schools, academies 
and colleges, is an equal honor to them and 
their constituents, a proof of their veneiation 
for letters and science, and a portent of gieat 
and lasting good to North and South Amer- 
ica, and to the world. Great is truth — gi'eat 
is liberty — great is humanity — and they must 
and will prevail." John Adams. 

"I look to the diffusion of light and edu- 
cation as the resources most to be relied on 
f)r ameliorating the condition, promoting 
the virtue, and advancing the happiness of 
man. And I do hope, in the present spirit 
of extending to the great mass of mankind 
the blessings of instruction, I see a prospect 
of great advancement in the happiness of the 
human race, and this may proceed to an in- 
definite, although not an infinite, degi'ee. A 
system of general instruction, which shall 
reach every desciiption of our citizens, from 
the richest to the poorest, as it was the ear- 
liest, so sh;ill it be the latest of all the public 
concerns in which I shall permit myself to 
take an interest. Give it to us, in any .shape, 
and receive for the inestimable boon the 
thanks of the young, and the blessings of 
the old, who are past all other services but 
prayers for the prosperity of their country, 
and blessings to those who promote it." 
Thomas Jeffekson. 

" Learned institutions ought to be the fa- 
vorite objects with every free people ; they 
throw that light over the public mind which 
is the best security against crafty and dan- 
gerous encroachments on the public liberty. 
They multiply the educated individuals, from 
among whom the people may elect a due 
portion of their public agents of every de- 
scription, more especially of those who are 
to frame the laws : by the perspicuity, the 



REVOLUTIONARY AND TRANSITIONAL PERIOD. 



35a 



consistoncy, and the stability, as well as by 
the justice and ecjual spirit of which, the great 
social puiposes are to be answered." 

James Mauison. 

" Moral, political and intellectual improve- 
ment, are duties assioned by the Author of 
our existence to social, no less than to indi- 
vidual man. For the fulfilment of these du- 
ties, governments are invested with power, 
and to the attainment of these ends, tlie ex- 
ercise of this power is a duty sacred and in- 
dispensable." John Qiincv Adams. 

" For the purpose of promoting the happi- 
ness of the State, it is absolutely necessary 
that our government, which unites into one 
all the tninds of the State, should possess in 
an eminent degree not only tlie understand- 
ing, the passions, and the will, but above all, 
the moral faculty and the conscience of an 
individual. Nothing can be politically light 
that is morally wrong; and no necessity can 
ever sanctify a law that is contiary to equity. 
Virtue is the soul of a Republic. To pro- 
mote this, laws for the suppression of vice 
and immorality will be as inefiectual as the 
increase and enlargement of jails. There is 
but one method of preventing crime and of 
rendering a republican form of government 
durable ; and that is, by disseminating the 
seeds of virtue and knowledge through every 
part of the State, by means of proper modes 
and places of education ; and this can be 
done ert'ectually only by the interference and 
aid of the legislature. I am so deeply im- 
pressed with this opinion, that were this the 
last evening of my life, I would not only say to 
the asyluu) of my ancestors and my beloved 
native country, with the patriot of Venice, 
*■ Ealo perpctua,'' but I would add, as the best 
proof of my affection for her, my parting ad- 
vice to the guardians of her liberties, establish 
and su[)port public schools in every part of 
the State." Benjamin Rush. 

" Tliere is one object which I earnestly re- 
commend to your notice and patronage — I 
mean our institutions for tlie education of 
youth. The importance of common schools 
is best estimated by the good effects of them 
where they most abound and are best regu- 
lated. Our ancestors liave transmitted to us 
many excellent institutions, matured by the 
wisdom and experience of ages. Let them 
descend to posterity, accompanied with oth- 
ers, which, by promoting useful knowledge, 



and multiplying the blessings of social order, 
diffusing the influence of moral obligations, 
may be reputable to us, and beneficial tO: 
them." John Jav. - 

" The first duty of government, and the 
surest evidence of good government, is the 
encouragement of education. A general dif- 
fusion of knowledge is the precursor and pro- 
tector of republican institutions, and in it we 
must confide as the conservative power that 
will watch over our liberties and guard them 
against fraud, intrigue, corruption and vio- 
lence. I consider the system of our Com- 
mon Schools as the palladium of our freedom, 
for no reasonable apprehension can be enter- 
tained of its subversion, as long as the great 
body of the people are enlightened by educa- 
tion. To increase the funds, to extend the 
benefits, and to remedy the defects of this 
excellent system, is worthy of your most de- 
liberate attention. I can not recommend in 
terms too strong and impressive, as munifi- 
cent appropriations as the faculties of the 
State will authorize for all establishments- 
connected with the interests of education, 
the exaltation of literature and science, and, 
the improvement of the human mind." 

De Witt Clinton. 

" Tlie parent who sends his son into the 
world uneducated, defrauds the community 
of a lawful citizen, and bequeaths to it a 
nuisance." Chancellor Kent. 

In the discussions wliich have taken place 
in the press and in the halls of legislation 
on the subject, the experience of the New- 
England States is constantly cited as an irre-:. 
futablo argument in favor of public schoolsi 
and universal education. The character and 
value of this example are admirably set forth, 
by Daniel Webster: 

"In this particular. New' England may be 
allowed to claim, I think, a merit of a pecu-' 
liar character. She early adopted and has. 
constantly maintained the principle, that it 
is the undoubted right, and the bounden 
duty of government, to provide for the in- 
struction of all-youth. That which is else- 
where left to chance, or to charity, we secure 
by law. For the purpose of public instruc- 
tion, we hold every man subject to taxation 
in proportion to his property, and we look 
not to the question, whether he himself have, . 
or have not, children to be benefited by the 
education for which he pays. We regard it 



354 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



as a wise and liberal system of police, by 
which property, and life, and the peace of 
society are secured. We seek to prevent in 
some measure the extension of the penal 
code, by inspiring a salutary lind conserva- 
tive principle of virtue and of knowledge in 
an early age. We hope to excite a feeling 
of respectability, and a sense of character, by 
enlarging the capacity, and increasing the 
sphere of intellectual enjoyment. By gen- 
eral instruction, we seek, as far as possible, 
to purify the whole moral atmosphere; to 
keep good sentiments uppei-most, and to turn 
the strong current of feeling and opinion, as 
■well as the censures of the law, and the de- 
nniiciations of religion, against immorality 
and crime. We hope for a security, beyond 
the law, and above the law, in the prevalence 
of enlightened and well-principled moral sen- 
timent. We hope to continue and prolong 
the time when, in the villages and farm- 
houses of New England, there may be undis- 
turbed sleep within unbarred doors. And 
knowing that our government rests directly 
on the public will, that we may preserve it, 
we endeavor to give a safe and proper direc- 
tion to that public will. We do not, indeed, 
expect all men to be philosophers or states- 
men ; but we confidently trust, and our ex- 
pectation of the duration of our system of 
government rests on that trust, that by the 
diffusion of general knowledge and good and 
virtuous sentiments, the political fabric may 
be secure, as well against open violence and 
overthrow, as against the slow but sure un- 
dermining of licentiousness." 

The action of Congress, and of the early 
constitutional conventions of the several 
states, shows how nobly the public mind 
responded to these appeals. 

On the 17th of May, 1784, Mr. Jefferson, 
as chairman of a committee for that purpose, 
introduced into the old Congress an ordin- 
ance respecting the disposition of the public 
lands; but tliis contained no reference to 
schools or education. On the 4th of March, 
1785, another ordinance was introduced — by 
whom does not appear on the journal — and 
on the IGth of the same month was recom- 
mitted to a committee" consisting of Pierce 
Long of New Hampshire, Rufus King of 
Massachusetts, David Howell of Rhode Is- 
land, Wm, S. Johnson of Connecticut, R. R. 
Livingston of New York, Charles Stewart of 
New Jersey, Joseph Gardner of Pennsyl- 
vania, John Henry of Maryland, William 
Grayson of Virginia, Hugh Williamson of 



North Carolina, John Bull of South Caro- 
lina, and William Houston of Georgia. On 
the 14th of April following, this committee 
reported the ordinance — by whom drawn up 
no clue is given — which, after being perfect- 
ed, was passed the 20th of May following, 
and became the foundation of the existing 
land system of the United States. 

By one of its provisions, the sixteenth sec- 
tion of every township was reserved '"''for the 
maintenance of pub/ic .■-chools ;" or, in other 
words, one section out of the thirty-six 
composing each township. The same pro- 
vision was incorporated in the large land 
sale, in l7S6, to the Ohio Company, and the 
f )llowing year in Judge Symmes' purchase. 
The celebrated ordinance of 1787, for the gov- 
ernment of the territory north-west of the 
River Ohio, and which confirmed the pro- 
visions of the land ordinance of 1785, pro- 
vides further, that, "Religion, Moralitv 
and Knowledge being necessary to good 
government and the happiness of mankind. 
Schools, and the means of Education, 

SHALL BE forever ENCOURAGED." From 

that day to the present, this noble policy 
has been confirmed and extended, till its 
blessings now reach even the distant shores 
of the Pacific, and fifty millions of acres 
of the public domain have been set apart and 
consecrated to the high and ennobling pur- 
poses of education, together with five per 
cent, of the net proceeds of the sales of all 
public lands in each of the states and terri- 
tories in which they are situated. 

During this peiiod individual beneficence 
and associated enterprise began to be direct- 
ed to the building up, furnishing, and main- 
taining libraries, colleges, academies, and 
scientific institutions. Societies for the pro- 
motion of science and literature, and schools 
for professional training, were founded and 
incorporated, and men of even moderate 
fortune began to feel the luxury of doing 
good, and to see that a wise endowment 
for the relief of suffering, the ditiusion of 
knowledge, the discovery of the laws of 
nature, the application of the principles of 
science to the useful arts, the conservation 
(;f good morals, and the spread of religious 
truth, is, in the best sense of the term, 
a good investment — an investment produc- 
tive of the greatest amount of the highest 
good both to the donor and his posterity, 
and which makes the residue of the prop^ 
erty frotn which it is taken both more se- 
cure and more valuable. 



PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 



355 



CHAPTER III. 

PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY 
SCHOOLS. 

To understand the real proprress wliich has 
been made in the organization, administra- 
tion, and instruction of institutions of learn- 
ing in this country, and at the same time to 
appreciate the importance of many asjencies 
and means of popular education besides 
schools, books and teachers, we must, as far 
as we can, look into the schools themselves, 
as they were fifty and sixty yeais ago, and 
realize the circumstances under which some 
of the noblest characters of our history have 
been developed. As a contribution to our 
knowledge of the early history of education 
in the United States, we bring together the 
testirnoiiv of several eminent men who were 
pupils or teachers in these schools, and who 
assisted in various ways in achieving their 
improvement. 

LETTER FROM NOAH WEBSTER, LL.D, 

"New Haven, March 10th, 1840. 

" Mr. Barnard : Dear Sir — You desire 
me to give you some information as to the 
mode of instruction in common ;.chools when 
I was young, or before the Revolution. I be- 
lieve vou to be better acquainted with the 
methods of managing common schools, at 
the present time, than I am ; and I am not 
able to institute a very exact comparison 
between the old modes and the present. 
From what I know of the present schools in 
the country, I believe the principal difference 
between the schools of former times and at 
present consists in the books and instruments 
used in the modern schools. 

" When 1 was young, the books used were 
chieflv or wholly Dilworth's Spelling Books, 
the Psalter, Testatnent and Bible. No ge- 
ography was studied before the publication 
of Dr. Morse's small books on that subject, 
about the year 1786 or 1787. No history 
was read, as far as my knowledge extends, 
for there was no abridged history of the 
United States. Except the books above 
mentioned, no hook for reading was used 
before the publication of the Thinl Part of 
my Institute, in 1785. In some of the early 
editions of that book, I introduced short 
notices of the geograplu' and history of the 
United States, and these led to more en- 
larged descriptions of tli(! country. In 1788, 
at the request of Ur. Morse, I wrote an ac- 



count of the transactions in the United 
States, after the Revolution ; whi(th account 
fdls nearly twenty pages in the first volume 
of his octavo editions. 

" Before the Revolution, and for some 
years after, no slates were used in common 
schools ; all writing and the operations in 
arithmetic were on paper. The teacher 
wrote the copies and gave the siuns in 
arithmetic ; few or none of the pupils having 
any books as a guide. Such was the condi- 
tion of the schools in which I received my 
earlv education. 

"The introduction of my Spelling Book, 
first published in 1783, produced a great 
change in the department of spelling; and 
from the information 1 can gain, spelling was 
taught with more care and accuracy for 
twenty years or more after that period, than 
it has been since the introduction of multi- 
plied books and studies.* 

" No English grammar was generally 
taught in common schools when I was 
young, except that in Dilworth, and that to 
no good purpose. In short, the instruction 
in schools was very imperfect, in every 
branch ; and if I am not misinformed, it is 
so to this day, in many branches. Indeed 
there is danger of running from one extreme 
to another, and instead of having too few 
books in our schools, we shall have too 
many. 

" i am, sir, with much respect, your friend 
and obedient servant, N, Webster." 

Dr. Webster, in an essay published in a 
New York paper in 1788, "On the Educa- 
tion of Youth in America," and in another 
essay published in Hartford, Ct., in 1790, 
" On Property, Government, Education, Re- 
ligion, Agriculture, etc., in the United 
States,"! while setting forth some of the 
cardinal doctrines of American education as 
now held, throws light on the condition of 
schools and colleges in different parts of the 
country at that date. 

" The first error that I would mention is a 



* "The general use of my Spelling Book in the 
United States has liad a most extensive effect in 
correcting the pronunciation of words, and giving 
uniformity to the langu;ige. Of tliis ch;»)ge, the 
present generation can have a very imperfect idea." 

f These essays were afterwards collected with 
others in a volume entitled "A Cullection of Ks- 
saya and Fugitive Writings, etc." By Noah Webster, 
Jr. Boston: 1790. 



866 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL iNStlTUTlONS. 



too general attention to the dead languages, 
with a neglect of our own, . , . This 
neglect is so general that there is scarcely an 
institution to be found in the country where 
the English tongue is taught regularly from 
its elements to its pure and regular construc- 
tion in prose and verse. Perhaps in most 
schools boys are taught the definition of the 
parts of speech, and a few hard names which 
they do not understand, and which the 
teacher seldom attempts to explain ; this is 
called learning grammar. . . . The prin- 
ciples of any science afford pleasure to the 
student who comprehends them. In order to 
render the study of language agreeable, the 
distinctions between words should be illus- 
trated by the difference in visible objects. 
Examples should be preseiited to the sen- 
ses which are the inlets of all our knowledge. 
" Another error which is frequent in 
America, is that a master undertakes to 
teach many different branches in the same 
school. In new settlements, where the 
people are poor, and live in scattered situa- 
tions, the practice is often unavoidable. But 
in populous towns it must be considered as a 
defective plan of education. For suppose 
the teacher to be equally master of all the 
branches which he attempts to teach, which 
seldom happens, yet his attention must be 
distracted with a multiplicity of objects, and 
consequently painful to himself, and not use- 
ful to his pupils. Add to this the continual 
interruptions which the students of one 
branch sutler from those of another, which 
must retard the progress of the whole school. 
It is a much more eligible plan to appropri- 
ate an apartment to each branch of educa- 
tion, with a teacher who makes that branch 
his sole employment. . . . Indeed what 
is now called a liberal education disqualifies 
a man for business. Habits are formed in 
youth and by practice ; and as business is 
in some measure mechanical, every person 
should be exercised in his employment in an 
early period of life, that his habits may be 
formed by the time his apprenticeship ex- 
pires. An education in a university inter- 
feres with the forming of these habits, and 
perhaps forms opposite liabits ; the mind 
may contract a fondness for ease, for plea- 
sure, or for books, which no eftorts can over- 
,come. An academic education, which should 
furnish the youth with some ideas of men 
and things, and leave .time for an apprentice- 
ship before the age of twenty-one years, 



would be the most eligible for young men 
who are designed for active employments. 
****** 

"But the principal defect in our plan of 
education in America is the want of good 
teachers in the academies and common 
schools. By good teachers I mean men of 
unblemished reputation, and possessed of 
abilities competent to their station. That a 
man should be master of what he undertakes 
to teach is a point that will not be disputed ; 
and yet it is certain that abilities are often 
dispensed with, either through inattention 
or fear of expense. To those who em- 
ploy ignorant men to instruct their children, 
let me say, it is better for youth to have no 
education than to have a bad one ; for it is 
more difficult to eradicate habits than to im- 
press new ideas. The tender shrub is easily 
bent to any figure; but the tree which has 
acquired its full growth resists all imjires- 
sions. Yet abilities are not the sole requi- 
sites. The instructors of youth ought, of all 
men, to be the most prudent, accomplished, 
agreeable, and respectable. What avail a 
man's parts, if, while he is 'the wisest and 
brightest,' he is the ' meanest of mankind V 
The pernicious efi'ects of bad example on the 
minds of youth will probably be acknowl- 
edged ; but, with a view to improvement, it 
is indispensably necessary that the toacliers 
should possess good breeding and agreeable 
manners. In order to give full eftect to in- 
structions it is requisite that they should pro- 
ceed from a man who is loved and respected. 
But a low-bred clown or morose tyrant can 
command neither love nor respect ; and that 
pupil who has no motive for application to 
books but the fear of the rod, will not make 
a scholar." 

LETTER FROM REV. HEMAN HUMPHREY, D.D. 
"PiTTSFiELD, Dec. 12th, 18G0. 

" Hon. Henry Barnard : Dear Sir — I 
am glad to hear from you, still engaged in 
the educational cause, and that you are in- 
tending to ' give a picturesque survey of the 
progress of our common schools, their equip- 
ment, studies and character.' If my early 
recollections and experience will give vou 
any little aid, I shall esteem myself happy 
in affording it. 

" The first school I remember was kept a 
few weeks by a maiden lady, called Aliss 
Faithy, in a barn. I was very young, as 
were most of the children, ^\^lat I learned 



PROGRESS OF COMMON OR KLEMENTAKY SCHOOLS. 



357 



then, if any thing, I have forgotten. This 
■was in the summer, of course. The next was 
a soliodl, so failed, kept a month or two by 
a neighbor of ours, who was the best trout 
fisher, witli his horse-hair line, in all those 
parts, lie wrote a fair hand, as I remem- 
ber, on birch bark. What he taught us, but to 
say tue and du(\ has escaped my recollection. 
AVe had no school -house tlicn in our dis- 
trict, and we met as much for play as any 
thing, where we could tind shelter. The 
next winter, another neighbor took us a few 
weeks into one of the rooms (»f his own 
house, where every thing but learning was go- 
ing on. Ilis speech bewrajed him of Rhode 
Island origin, and whatever he knew, he cer- 
tainly could never have had much if any 
chance of being whipped in school when he 
was a bov. I remember his tremendous 
stamp when we got noisy in school-time, and 
that is all. This, however, is not a fair 
sample of school accommodations in my 
boyhood ; and I had a better chance for two 
or three winters afterward. 

" School Houses. — \Iost of the other 
districts in the town had school-houses, but 
not all. The tirst winter that 1 kept school 
myself, was in a room next to the kitchen in 
a small private house. Some of the school- 
houses were better than others; but none of 
them in that or the adjoining towns were 
convenient or even comfortable. They were 
rather juvenile pnitntiaries, than attractive 
accommodations for study. They were too 
small, and low from the ceiling to the floor, 
and the calculation of the builders seemed 
to have been, to decide into how small a 
space the children could be crowded, from 
tlie fire-|)lace till the room was well packed. 
Not untVecjuentl}' sixty or seventy scholars 
■were dailv shut up six hours, where there 
was hardly room for thirty. The school- 
houses were sijuare, with a very narrow en- 
trv, and a large fire-place on the side near 
the door. There were no stoves then. They 
were generally roughly clai)boarded, but 
never ])aint('<l. They ha<l writing-desks, or 
rather, long boards for writing, on two or 
three sides, next to the wall. The benches 
were all loose ; some of them boards, with 
slabs from the saw-mill, standing on four 
legs, two at each end. Some were a little 
lower than the rest, but many of the smaller 
children had to sit all day with their legs 
dangling between the bench and the floor. 
Poor little things! nodding and trying to 
keep their balance on the slabs, without any 



backs to lean against, how I pity them to 
this day. In the coldest weather, it was 
hard to tell which was the most dithcult, to 
keep from roasting or freezing. For those 
nearest to the fire it was sweltering hot, 
while the ink was freezing in the j>ens on 
the back side of the room. ' Master, I am 
too hot' — ' Master, may I go to the fire V 
That was the style of address in those days, 
and we <lid our best to be masters, anyhow. 

" All the school-houses that I remember 
stood close by the travelled road, without 
anv ])Iay -grounds or enclosures whatever. 
If there were any shade trees planted, or left 
of spontaneous growth, I have forgotten 
them. And in most cases, there were no 
outside accommodations, even the most 
necessary for a moment's occasion. I now 
marvel at it, but so it was. In that respect, 
certainly, the days of the children are better 
than the days of their fathers wei-e. 

" For the most part, the winter schools 
were miserably supplied with wood. I kept 
school mvself in three towns, and in but one 
of the schools was there any wood-shed w hat- 
ever; and no wood was got up and seasoned 
in summer against winter. Most of what 
we used was standing in the forests when 
the school began, and was cut and brought 
sled length by the farmers in proportion to 
the number of scholars which they sent. 
Not exactly that, either; for sometimes, 
when we went to the school-house in a cold 
morning, there was no wnod there. Some- 
body had neglected to bring his load, and 
we were obliged to adjourn over to the 
next day. In many cases, the understand- 
ing was, that the larger boys must cut the 
wood as it was wanted. It always lay in 
the snow, and sometimes the boys were sent 
to dig it out in school-time, and bring it in, 
all wet and green as it was, to keep us from 
freezing. That was the fuel to make fires 
with in the morning, when the thermometer 
was below zero, and how the little children 
cried with the cold, when they came almost 
frozen, and found no fire burning; nothing 
but one or two boys blowing and keeping 
themselves warm as well as they could, by 
exercise, in trying to kindle it. Such were 
our school-houses and their disaccommoda- 
tions, 

" Branches Taught in the Schools. — 
They were reading, spelling, and wi-iting, 
besides the A I> C's to children scarcely four 
years old, who ought to have been at home 
with their mothers. They were called up 



358 



BDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



twice a day by the master pointing with his 
penknife ' What's that?' 'A.' 'What's that?' 
'D; 'No, it's B; 'What's that?' 'N.' 'No, 
you careless boy, it's C ;' and so down to 
ezand. 'Go to your seat, you will never learn 
your lesson in the world, at tliis rate.' Our 
school-books Avcre the Bible, * Webster's 
Spelling Book,' and ' Third Part,' mainly. 
One or two others were found in some 
schools for the reading classes. Grammar 
was hardly taught at all in any of them, and 
that little was confined almost entirely to 
committing and reciting the rules. Parsing 
was one of the occult sciences in my day. 
We had some few lessons in geography, by 
questions and answers, but no maps, no 
globes ; and as ft^r black-hoards, such a 
thing was never thought of till long after. 
Children's reading and picture books, we 
had none ; the fables in Webster's Spelling 
Book came nearest to it. Arithmetic was 
hardly taught at all in the day schools. As a 
substitute, there were some evening schools 
in most of the districts. Spelling was one 
of the leading daily exercises in all the 
classes, and it was better, a good deal, I 
think, than it is now. 

"The winter schools were commonl}* kept 
about three months ; in some favored dis- 
tricts four, but rarely as long. As none of 
what are now called the higher branches 
Avere taught beyond the merest elements, 
parents generally thought that three or four 
months was enough. There were no winter 
select schools for the young above the age of 
sixteen or seventeen, as I remember, till af- 
ter I retired from the profession, such as it 
then was. There may have been here and 
there an academy, in some parts of the 
state ; but not one within the range of my 
acquaintance. 

"Our Spring Exhibitions. — At the close 
of the winter schools we had what we used 
to call our Quarter-days, when the schools 
came together in the meeting-house, with a 
large congregation of parents and friends. 
The public exercises were reading, spelling, 
and speaking single pieces, and dialogues. 
Some of the dialogues we wrote ourselves, 
for our own schools. Most of them were 
certainly very flat ; but they brought down 
the house, and answered the purpose as well 
as any we could pick up. We thought 
then, as I think now, that those quarter- 
days were of great advantage to the schools. 
The anticipation of them kept up an interest 
all winter, and stimulated both teachers and 



scholars to do their best in the way of prep- 
aration. As the time approached, we had 
evening schools for reading and rehearsing 
the dialogues, so as to be sure not to fall be- 
hind in the exhibitions. None of our col- 
lege commencements are now looked forward 
to with greater interest than were those ver- 
nal anniversaries, 

"Another thing that helped us a good deal 
was the occasional afternoon visits of the 
parents and other fiiends of the schools. 
They came in by invitation, or whenever 
they chose, and their visits always did us 
good. 

" Still another practice we found to be quite 
stimulating and useful. We had a mutual 
understanding that, without giving any no- 
tice, any teacher might dismiss his own 
school for an afternoon, and, taking along 
with him, some of the older bo3's, call in to 
see how his brother teacher got along in the 
next or some other district. The ariange- 
ment worked well. We made speeches, 
complimented one another as politely as cir- 
cumstances would allow, and went home re- 
solved not to fall behind the best of them. 

" In the school, we made up our minds to 
be masters, in fact as well as in name. 
Though of late years I have not had very 
good advantages for making the comparison, 
I believe the schools were quite as well gov- 
erned sixty years ago as they are now. 
Among other things which we did to main- 
tain our authority, was to go out now and 
then and have a snowball skirmish with the 
boys, and though we commonly got beat, 
nothing we could do was more eftectuaL 

" Corporal punishments, I believe, were 
sparingly resorted to in most of our schools. 
Though I myself believed in Solomon fully, 
I never flogged but one scholar in my life, 
though I shook the mischief out of a great 
many. I think Sam was of the opinion, in 
the premises, that the rod was laid on rather 
smartly, for I understood he promised, 
some day, to pay me in kind, which, how- 
ever, I suppose he never found it quite con- 
venient to undertake. 

"Wo schoolmasters within convenient dis- 
tances used to meet in the winter evenings 
for mutual improvement, which, to own the 
truth, we needed a good deal. Our regular 
exercises were reading for criticisms, report- 
ing how we were getting along, and con- 
versing upon the best method of managing 
our schools. This was very profltable, as 
we thought, to us all. 



PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 



359 



" In those ancient times, it was an almost 
universal custom in the rural towns of Con- 
necticut, for the teachers to board round, 
and upon the whole I liked it. It was a 
good school for us. By going into all the 
families we learned a great deal. We were 
looked upon as having more in our heads 
than we could fairly (daiin, anti they always 
kept us on the best they had. It is true, 
the cooking was not always the best, nor 
sheets always so clean as to guard against 
infection ; and if, perchance, it sometimes 
broke out, we knew how to cure it. 

" Our wages were generally screwed down 
to the lowest notch by the school commit- 
tees, under the instruction of the districts. 
For my first oampaign I received seven dt)l- 
lars a month and board ; for the next, nine ; 
for the third, ten; and I think I never went 
above thirteen till quite the last of my teach- 
ing before I went to college. As I had 
some reputation in that line, I suppose I was 
as well paid as my brethren. 

" With regard to the summer schools of 
that period, I have very little to say. Thciy 
were kept by females upon very low wages, 
about as much a week as they could earn in 
families by spinning or weaving. They took 
good care of the little children, and taught 
them as well as they could. 

"As we had no grammar schools in which 
the languages were taught, we most of us 
fitted for college with our ministers, who, 
though not very fresh from their classics, 
did what they could to help us. 

" Finally, you ask me whether there Avere 
any schools for young ladies in those old 
times ? There may possibly have been in 
two or three of the largest towns, but the 
only one of which I had any knowledge was 
in Litchfield, kept by Miss Pierce, and I am 
not quite sure that her school was estab- 
lished as early as your question contem- 
plates. 

" These, dear sir, are some of my old re- 
merabrances, which you may make such use 
of as you please. 

" liespectfuUy yours, 

" II. Humphrey." 

LETTER FROM HON. JOSEPH T. BUCKINGHAM. 
"Cambru)GE, Dec. 10th, 18G0. 

" IIenrt Barnard, Esq. : My Dear Sir 
—I cheerfully comply with your request to 
give you some account of the schools and 
the educational books that were in use about 



the close of the last century. I never had 
the privilege of attending any higiier insti- 
tution of learning than the common district 
schools of Connecticut, in the town of Wind- 
ham ; but I have no doubt that those of that 
town were a fair type of many others, prob- 
ably most of them, except such as were kept 
in the larger towns or thickly populated vil- 
lages. 

" According to the best of my remem- 
brance, my school-days began in the spring 
of 1783. The school to which I was admit- 
ted was kept by a lady, and, like most of the 
district schools, was kept only for the younger 
pupils, and was open for two months durin<r 
the summer season. The upper class in the 
school was formed entirely of females — such 
as could read in the Bible. The lower classes 
read in spelling books and the New England 
I 'rimer. The spelling books, of which there 
were not, probably, more than three or four 
in the school, I believe were all by Dilworth, 
and were much worn and defaced, having 
been a sort of heir-loom in the families of 
the pupils. The teacher of this school was 
the daughter of the minister of the parish. 
She kept a rod hanging on the wall behind 
her chair and a ferule on the table by her 
side ; but I do not recollect that she used 
cither of them. The girls who constituted 
the first class were required, every Monday 
morning, to repeat the text or texts of the 
preceding day's discourse, stating the book, 
chapter, and verse whence it was taken. The 
next summer, 1784, the same lady, or one of 
her sisters, kept school in the same district. 
The same books were in use, and there was 
the same routine of exercises. It was kept 
on the first floor of the steeple. The lower 
end of the bell-rope lay in a coil in the centre 
of the floor. The discipline was so strict, 
that no one, however mischievously disposed, 
I believe ever thought of taking hold of it, 
though it was something of an incumbrance. 
I was then four years and a half old, and had 
learned by heart nearly all the reading lessons 
in the Primer, and much of the AVestminstcr 
Catechism, which was taught as the closing 
exercise every Saturday. But justice to one 
of the best of mothers requires that I should 
say that much the greater part' of the im- 
provement I had made was acquired from 
her careful instruction. 

" In December, 1784, the month in which 
I was five years old, I attended, for a few 
days, the school kept by a master — I do not 
rem^ember his name. When asked up for 



360 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



examination, he asked me if I could read 
without spelling ? I said I could read in the 
Bible, lie hesitated a moment, and then 
placed me on one of the benches, opened a 
Bible at the fifth chapter of Acts, and asked 
me to read. I read ten or a dozen verses — 
being the account of Ananias and his wife 
falling dead before Peter for telling a lie. 
Whether he had any suspicion that I had 
told a falsehood, and took this method to 
reprove me, I know not ; but he dismissed 
me with approbation. He used his ferule on 
the hands of some of the elder boys ; but 
the severest punishment that he inflicted for 
any violation of order, was compelling a boy 
who had brought into the school the breast- 
bone of a chicken, (commonly called the 
wishing -hone,) and with which he had excited 
some noise among the pupils, to stand on 
one of the benches and wear the bone on 
his nose till the school was dismissed. I 
am strongly impressed with the belief that 
Webster's spelling book made its first ap- 
pearance in the schools during this winter. 
The following summer I attended, but very 
irregularly, a school kept as before in the 
steeple of the meeting-house,* and had a 
copy of Webster. Whether there were any 
other copies in the school or not I am not 
able to say. The next two winters, circum- 
stances which I have no desire to recall, and 
which you would not care to be acquainted 
with, prevented my attending any school. 
In the summer of 1786, these same circum- 
stances caused me to be removed to another 
district three miles distant from the central 
villao-e. The farmer with whom I lived 
thought I could read well enough, and as 
the district school-house was a mile or more 
distant, he considered it unnecessary to send 
me that distance in the winter, merely to 
read; and consequently for two or three 
winters I went to school not more than eight 
or ten days in each. At length, in 1790 or 
1791, it was thought I was old enough to 
learn to cipher, and accordingly was per- 
mitted to go to school more constantly. I 
told the master I wanted to learn to cipher. 
He set me a siun in simple addition — five 
columns of figures, and six figures in each 
column. All the instruction he gave me 
-^vas — add the figures in the first column, 
carry one for every ten, and set the overplus 
down under the column. I supposed he 
meant by the first column the left hand 



* This was the last time I went to a summer schooL 



column ; but what he meant by carrying one 
for every ten was as much a mystery as 
Samson's riddle -was to the Philistines. 
I won-ied my brains an hour or two, and 
showed the master the figures I had made. 
You may judge what the amount was, when 
the columns were added from left to right. 
The master frowned and repeated his former 
instruction— add up the column on the right, 
carry one for every ten, and set down the 
remainder. Two or three afternoons (I did 
not go to school in the morning) were spent 
in this way, when I begged to be excused 
from learning to cipher, and the old gentle- 
man with whom I lived thought it was time 
wasted ; and if I attended the school any 
further at that time, reading and spelling, 
and a little writing were all that was taught. 
The next winter there was a teacher more 
communicative and better fitted for his place, 
and under him some progress was made in 
arithmetic, and I made a tolerable acquisi- 
tion in the first four rules, according to Dil- 
worth's Schoolmaster's Assistant, of which 
the teacher and one of the eldest boys had 
each a copy. The two following winters, 
1794 and 1795, I mastered all the rules and 
examples in the first part of Dilworth ; that 
is, through the various chapters of Rule of 
Three, Practice, Fellowship, Interest, etc. 
etc., to Geometrical Progression and Per- 
mutation. 

" In our district, the books were of rather 
a miscellaneous character, such as had been 
in families perhaps half a century or more. 
My belief is that Webster's Spelling Book 
was not in general use before 1790 or 1791. 
The Bible was read by the first class in the 
morning, always, and generally in the after- 
noon before the closing exercise, which was 
always a lesson in spelling, and this was per- 
formed by all the pupils who were sufficient- 
ly advanced to pronounce distinctly words 
of more than one syllable. It was the cus- 
tom for all such pupils to stand together as 
one class, and with 07ie voice to read a column 
or two of the tables for spelling. The mas- 
ter gave the signal to begin, and all united 
to read, letter by letter, pronouncing each 
syllable by itself, and adding it to the pre- 
ceding one till the word was complete. Thus, 
a-d ad, m-i mi, admi, r-a ra, admira, t-i-o-n 
shun, admiration. This mode of reading 
was exceedingly exciting, and, in my humble 
judgment, exceedingly useful ; as it required 
and taught deliberate and distinct articula- 
tion, and inspired the youngest with a desire 



PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 



361 



to equal the older ones. It is true the voices 
woiilil not all be in perfect unison; but after 
a little practice tliey bes^an \o assimilate. I 
have heard a class of thirty or more read 
column after column in this manner, with 
scarcely a perceptible va'iation from the 
proper pitch of voice. When the lesson had 
been thus read, the books were closed, and 
the words given out for spelling. If one was 
misspelt, it passed on to the next, and the 
next pupil in order, and so on till it was 
spelt correctly. Then the pupil who had 
spelt correctly went up in the class above the 
one who had misspelt. It was also a prac- 
tice, when one was absent from this exercise 
in spelling, that he should stand at the foot 
of the class when he returned. Another of 
our customs was to choose sides to spell once 
or twice a week. The words to be spelt went 
from side to side ; and at the conclusion, the 
side which beat (spelt the most words) were 
permitted to leave the schoolroom, preceding 
the other side, who had to sweep the room 
and build the fires the next morning. These 
customs prevalent sixty and seventy years 
ago excited emulation, and emulation pro- 
duced improvement. A revival of them, I 
have no doubt, would be advantageous in 
the common schools, especially where pupils 
are required to spell words given out indis- 
criminately from a reading book or diction- 
ary. There was not, to my knowle Ige, any 
read'nj hook proper, except the Bible, till 
Webster's Third Book, so called, came out 
about 1793 or 1794. A new edition of his 
spelling book furnished some new matter for 
reading — selections from ttie New Testament, 
a chapter of Proverbs, and a set of Tables, 
etc.; but none of these operated to the exclu- 
sion of the liible. 

" In the family in which I lived there were 
three or four old spelling books, which I 
presume had been used in schools before the 
period of my remembrance. One of these 
was a book of less than a hundred pages, 
printed in London, I think in 1690. The 
words were arranged in tables according to 
syllables. The terminations tion, sion, cial, 
tial, etc., were all divided and printed as two 
distinct syllables. (And I believe this mode 
of printing is still continued in England. It 
was in the time of Lindley Murray, as may 
he seen in his spelling book, printed about 
forty years ago.) This spelling book con- 
tained a numeration table which, from a sin- 
gular feature, early attracted my attention. 



Every figure was 9. and the whole formed a 
curious triangle. Thus : 

9 
99 
999 and so on to 
the last, 099,999,999 

"Another spelling book in our farmer's 
library was by Daniel Penning, printed in 
London. It contained a short treatise on 
grammar, on which I sometimes exercised 
my memory, but understood not one of its 
principles. We had also a Dilworth, con- 
taining certain fables — such as Jupiter and 
the Frogs, the Romish I'riest and the Jester, 
Hercules and the Wagoner, etc., etc. An- 
other still we had, the author of which I 
never knew, as several pages had been lost 
from the beginning. It had a page of prov- 
erbs, one of which — 'a cat may look upon a 
king' — occasioned me much thoughtful ex- 
ercise. It also liad an appropriate collection 
of couplets for writing-copies, of which the 
only one I recollect was this: 

" ' X things a penman sliould Imve near at hand — 
Paper, pounce, pen, hik, knife, houe, rule, plum- 
met, wax, sand.' 

But that which rendered the book so mem- 
orable as never to be forgotten, was the as- 
toidshing, if not terrific, word of fourteen 
syllables — ' IIo no-ri-fi-ca-bi-li-tu-di-ni-ti:-ti- 
bus-que' — asserted to be the longest word in 
the Englisli language. 

''In the winter of 1793-4, we had for a 
teacher Erastus Kipley, who was an un- 
der-graduate of Yale College. I mention his 
name, because I cannot look back upon the 
time when I had the advantage of his in- 
struction without a feeling of reverence for 
the man and respect for the teacher. I 
learned more from him than all the school- 
masters I had been under. He took more 
pains to instruct us in reading than all his 
predecessors within mv knowledge. He 
opened the school every morning with pray- 
er — which liad not been practised in our 
district. He was preparing for the nnnistry, 
and was afterwards settled at Canterbury, 1 
think. He was highly esteemed by all the 
people of the district, and gave such an im- 
petus to the ambition of the pupils, that a 
subscription was made to employ him an ex- 
tra month after the usual term of the school 
had expired. 

" Mr. Ilipley was succeeded in the winter 
of 1794-5 by a young man from Lebanon 
by the name of Tisdale, under whom my 



362 



EDUCATIOy AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



school days were finished ; and here I may 
brino; this long and, I fear, very uninteresting: 
letter to a close. Hoping this may serve the 
purpose for which you suggested the writ- 
ing of it, and wishing you all the success 
you can desire in the noble cause in which 
you are engaged, 

" I am, very respectfully 
" And truly yours, 

"Joseph T. Buckingham." 

letter from rev. eliphalet nott, d.d., 
dated jan., 1861. 

" When I was a boy, seventy-five or eighty 
years ago, in good old Puritan Connecticut, 
it was felt as a practical maxim ' that to 
spare the rod was to spoil the child ;' and 
on this maxim the pedagogue acted in the 
school-room, and applied it for every offence, 
real or imaginary ; and for having been 
whipped at school by the relentless master, 
the unfortunate tyro was often whipped at 
home by his no less relentless father; so 
that between the two relentless executors of 
justice among the Puritan fathers, few 
childi'en, I believe, were spoiled by the with- 
holding of this orthodox discipline. For 
myself, I can say (and I do not think I was 
wayward beyond the average of district 
school-boys) that, in addition to warnings, 
and admonitions daily, if I was not whipped 
more than three times a week, I considered 
myself for the time peculiarly fortunate. 

" Being of a contemplative and forbearing 
disposition, this discipline of the rod became 
peculiarly irksome to me, and, as I thought, 
unjustiiiahle; and I formed a resolution, if I 
lived to be a man, I would not be like other 
men in regard to their treatment of children. 

" Through the mercy of God I did live to 
be a man, and when at the age of eighteen 
I became installed as master 'of a district 
school in the eastern part of Franklin, Con- 
necticut — a school where rebellious spiiits 
had previously asserted their rights, and 
been subdued or driven from the school 
by the use of the rod — nothing daunted, 
I made up my mind to substitute in ray 
school moial motives in the place of the 
rod ; and I frankly told my assembled pu- 
pils so, and that if they would have the 
generosity to second my efforts, they would 
secure to themselves and furnish me and 
their parents the happiness which is the 
heaven-appointed reward of well-doing. 

" The school responded to my appeal, and 



thereafter, though we played and gambolled 
together as equals in play-hours, and on 
Saturday afternoons, which were also de- 
voted to play, the moment we entered the 
school-room, a subordination and application 
to study was observable, that became matter 
of remark and admiration among the in- 
habitants of the district, the fame of which 
success extended to other districts, and even 
to adjoining towns, so that the examination 
and exhibition with which the school closed 
the ensuing spring, called together clei-gymeu 
and other officials from places quite remote. 
" This success brought me to the knowl- 
edge of the trustees of the Plainfield Acad- 
emy, one of the most important, if not at 
the time the most important academy in the 
state, and I was by a unanimous vote ap- 
pointed principal of said academy — an in- 
stitution in which several hundred children 
of both sexes were in the same building 
successfully taught and governed, for years, 
without the use of the rod, it being at that 
time the prevailing usage, both in district 
schools and academies, for the two sexes to 
be taught in the same room, and subjected 
to the same form of government. 

" This successfid experiment in the use of 
moral suasion, and other kindred and kindly 
influences, in place of the rod, led to other 
and kindred experiments, until, whether for 
the better or the worse, the rod at length 
came to occupy a very subordinate place in 
the system of school education. 

" In those days, education in common 
schools was not so diffusive as at the present 
day ; but quite as thorough, if not more so. 
The same remark may be applied to the 
higher schools or academies — the whole field 
of natural science being at that time, for the 
most part, unexplored ; but mathematics and 
classics were zealously taught. In evidence 
of this, though inferior in attainments to 
some of my classmates, I published success- 
fully myself an almanac when about twenty- 
one years of age. 

" As the rod in those days was the prin- 
cipal instrument in common school edu- 
cation, so when I was afterward called to 
Union College, fines, suspensions, and ex- 
pulsions were the principal instruments of 
collegiate government. The faculty sat in 
their robes as a court, caused offenders to be 
brought before them, examined witnesses, 
heard defences, and pronounced sentences 
with the solemnity of other courts of justice ; 
and though Union College had on its cata- 



PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 



363 



locjiie but <a very diininntive number of stu- 
dents, the sittint; of the facuUy as h court 
occupied no inconsiderable part of the time 
of its president and professors. 

" Soon after I became connected with 
the college as its president, a case of disci- 
pline occurred which led to the trial and is- 
sued in the expulsion of a student belong- 
ing to a very respectable family in the city 
of Albany. According to the charter of 
Union College, the sentence of the faculty is 
not final. An appeal can be taken to the 
board of trustees, and in the case in ques- 
tion an appeal was taken, and, after keeping 
college in confusion for months, by the dif- 
ferent hearings of the case, the board re- 
versed the decision of the facultj', and re- 
stored the young man. On the event of this 
restoration, I informed them that they should 
never, during my administration, have occa- 
sion to review another case of discipline by 
the faculty ; and during the fifty-six years 
which have since passed away, I have kept 
my wold ; and though we have been less 
successful in our system of parental govern- 
ment than could be wished, we have had no 
rebellions, and it is couc-eded, I believe g(!n- 
erally, that quite as large a proportion of 
our young men have succeeded in after life 
as of any other collegiate institution in the 
Union." 

RECOLLECTIONS OF PETER PARLEY. 

The following picture of the District 
School as it was a few years later, in the 
town of liidgefield,* one of the most ad- 
vanced atrricultural communities of Connec- 



ticut, is from the pen of Peter Parley, in his 
" Recollections of a Lifetime^ 

" About three fourths of a mile from my 
father's house, on the winding road to Lower 
Salem, which bore the name of "West Lane, 
was the school-house where I took my first 
lessons, and received the foundations of my 
very slender education. I have since been 
sometimes asked where I graduated : ray 
reply has always been, ' At West Lane.' Gen- 
erally speaking, this has ended the inquiry, 
whether because my interlocutors liave con- 
founded this venerable institution with ' Lane 
Seminary,' or have not thought it worth while 
to risk an exposure of their ignorance as to 
the college in which I was educated, I am 
unable to say. 

" The site of the school-house was a trian- 
gular piece of land, measuring perhaps a 
rood m extent, and lying, according to the 
custom of those days, at the meeting of four 
roads. The ground hereabouts — as every- 
where else in Ridgefield — was exceedingly 
stony, and in making the pathway the stones 
had been thrown out right and left, and 
there remained in heaps on either side, from 
generation to generation. All round was 
bleak and desolate. Loose, squat stone 
walls, with innumerable breaches, inclosed 
adjacent fields. A few tufts of elder, with 
here and there a patch of briers and poke- 
weed, flourished in the gravelly soil. Not a 
tree, however, remained, save an aged chest- 
nut, at the western angle of the space. This 
certainly had not been spared for shade or 
ornament, but probably because it would 
have cost too much labor to cut it down, for 
it was of ample girth. At all events it was 
the oasis in our desert during summer ; and 
* "Nearly all the inhabitants of Ridgefield were i in autumn, as the burrs disclosed its fruit, 



farmers, with the tew mechauics that were neces- 
sary to carry on society iu a somewhat primeval 
Btate. Even the persons not professionally devoted 
to agriculture, liad each his farm, or at least his gar- 
den and jiome lot, with his pigs, poultry, and cattle. 
The population might have been 1200, comprising 
200 families. All could read and write, but iu point 
of fact, beyond tlie Almanac and Watts' Psalms and 
Hymns, tlieir literary acquirements had little scope. 
There were, I think, four newspapers, all weekly, 
published in the state: one at Hartford, one at New 
London, one at New Haven, and one at Litchfield. 
There were, however, not more than three sub- 
scribers to all these in our village. We had, how- 
ever, a public library of some 200 volumes, and 
what was of equal consequence — the town \vas on 
the road which was then the great thoroughfare, 
connecting Boston with New York, and hence it 
had means of intelligence from travellers constantly 
passing through the place, which kept it up with 
the march of events." 



it resembled a besieged city. The boys, 
like so many catapults, hurled at it stones 
and sticks, until every nut had capitulated. 

" Two liouses only were at hand : one, sur- 
rounded by an ample barn, a teeming or- 
chard, and an enormous wood-pile, belonged 
to Granther Baldwin ; the other was the 
property of '(,)ld Chich-cs-ter,' an uncouth, 
unsocial being, whom everybody for some 
reason or other seemed to despise and shun. 
11 is house was of stone and of one story, 
lie liad a cow, which every year had a calf. 
He had a wife — filthy, uncombed, and vague- 
ly reported to have been brought from the 
old country. This is about the whole hi.s- 
tory of the man, so far as it is written in 
the authentic traditions of the parish. His 



364 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



premises, an acre in extent, consisted of a 
tongue of land between two of the converg- 
ing roads. No boy, that I ever heard of, 
ventured to cast a stone or to make an in- 
cursion into this territory, though it lay 
close to the school-house. I have often, in 
passing, peeped timidly over the walls, and 
caught glimpses of a stout man with a drab 
coat, drab breeches, and drab gaiters, glazed 
■with ancient grease and long abrasion, prowl- 
ing about the house ; but never did I dis- 
cover him outside of his own dominion. I 
know it was darkly intimated that he had 
been a tory, and was tarred and feathered in 
the revolutionary war, but as to the rest he 
•was a perfect myth. Granther Baldwin was 
a character no less marked, but I must re- 
serve his picture for a subsequent letter. 

"The school-house itself consisted of rough, 
unpainted clapboards, upon a wooden frame. 
It was plastered within, and contained two 
apartments— a little entry, taken out of a 
corner for a wardrobe, and the school-room 
proper. The chimney was of stone, and 
pointed with mortar, which, by the way, 
had been dug into a honeycomb by uneasy 
and enterprising penknives. The fireplace 
was six feet wide and four feet deep. The 
flue was so ample and so perpendicidar, that 
the rain, sleet, and snow fell direct to the 
hearth. In winter, the battle for life with 
green fizzling fuel, whicli was brought in 
sled lengths and cut up by the scholai's, was 
a stern one. Not unfrequcntly, the wood, 
gushing with sap as it was, chanced to be 
out, and as there was no living without fire, 
the thermometer being ten or twenty degrees 
below zero, the school was dismissed, where- 
at all the scholars rejoiced aloud, not having 
the fear of the schoolmaster before their 
eyes. 

" It was the custom at this place to have a 
woman's school in the summer months, and 
this was attended only by young children. 
It was, in fact, what we now call a pi-imary 
or infant school. In winter, a man was 
employed as teacher, and then the girls and 
boys of the neighborhood, up to the age of 
eighteen, or even twenty, were among the 
pupils. It was not uncommon, at this sea- 
son, to have forty scholars crowded into this 
little building. 

" I was about six years old when I first 
went to school. My teacher was Aunt De- 
light, that is. Delight Benedict, a maiden 
lady of fifty, short and bent, of sallow com- 
plexion and solemn aspect. I remember the 



first day with perfect distinctness. I went 
alone — for I was familiar with the road, it 
being that which passed by our old house. 
I carried a little basket, with bread and 
butter within, for my dinner, the same being 
covered over with a white cloth. When I 
had proceeded about half way, I lifted the 
cover, and debated whether I would not eat 
my dinner then. I believe it was a sense 
of duty only that prevented my doing so, 
for in those happy days I always had a 
keen appetite. Bread and butter were then 
infinitely superior to pate de foic gras now ; 
but still, thanks to my training, I had also a 
conscience. As my mother had given me 
the food for dinner, I did not think it right 
to convert it into lunch, even though I was 
strongly tempted. 

" I think we had seventeen scholars — boys 
and girls — mostly of my own age. Among 
them were some of my after companions. I 
have since met several of them — one at 
Savannah, and two at Mobile, respectably 
established, and with families around them. 
Some remain, and are now among the gray 
old men of the town ; the names of others I 
have seen inscribed on the tombstones of 
their native village. And the rest — where 
are they ? 

" The school being organized, we were all 
seated upon benches, made of what were 
called slabs — that is, boards having the ex- 
terior or rounded part of the log on one 
side : as they were useless for other purposes, 
these were converted into school-benches, 
the rounded part down. They had each 
four supports, consisting of straddling wood- 
en legs, set into auger holes. Our own legs 
swayed in the air, for they were too short to 
touch the floor. Oh, what an awe fell over 
me, when we were all seated and silence 
reigned around ! 

" The children were called up, one by one, 
to Aunt Delight, who sat on a low" chair, 
and required each, as a preliminary, to make 
his manners, consisting of a small sudden 
nod or jerk of the head. She then placed 
the spelling-book — which was Dilworth's — 
before the pupil, and with a buck-handled 
peid<nife pointed, one by one, to the letters 
of the alphabet, saying, 'What's that?' If 
the child knew his letters the ' What's that?' 
very soon ran on thus : 

"'What's that?' 

" ' A.' 

"-'Stha-a-t?' 

" ' B.' 



PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 



365 



" ' Sna-a-a-t V 

" ' Siia-a-a-t ?' 

" ' Sna-a-a-t ?' 

" I looked upon these operations ■with in- 
tense curiosity and no small respect, until 
my own turn came. I went up to the school- 
mistrcos with some emotion, and when she 
said, rather spitefully, as I thou!j;ht, ' Make 
your obeisance !' my little intellects all tied 
away, and I. did nothing. Having waited a 
second, gazing at me with indignation, she 
laid her hand on the top of my head, and 
gave it a jerk which made my teeth clash. 
I believe 1 bit my tongue a little ; at all 
events, my sense of dignity was offended, 
and when she pointed to A, and asked wluii, 
it was, it swam before me dim and hazy, 
and as big as a full moon. She repeated the 
question, but I was doggedly silent. Again, 
a third time, she said, 'What's that?' I 
replied: 'Why don't you tell me what it 



etc., in summer, and for teachingschool in the 
winter, with a talent for music at all seasons, 
wherefore he became chorister upon occa-< 
sion, when, peradventurc, Deacon Ilawley 
could not officiate. He was a celebrity in 
ciphering, and 'Squire Seymour declared 
that he was the greatest ' arithmeticker' in 
Fairfield county. All 1 remember of his 
person is his hand, which seemed to me as 
big as Goliah's, judging by the claps of 
thunder it nuide in my ears on one or two 
occasions. 

" The next step of my progress which is 
marked in my memory, is tlie spelling of 
words of two syllables. I did not go very 
regularly to school, but by the time I was 
ten years old I had learned to write, and 
had nuide a little progress in arithmetic. 
There was not a grammar, a geography, or 
a history of any kind in the school. Read- 
ing, writing, and arithmetic were the only 
things taught, and these very indifiei-ently — 
not wholly from the stupidity of the teacher, 
but because he liad forty scholars, and the 



is ? I didn't come here to learn you your I standards of the age required no more than 



letters !' I liave not the slightest remem 
brance of this, for my brains were all a-wool- 
gathering; but as Aunt Delight allirmcd it 
to be a fact, and it passed into tradition, I 
put it in. I may have told this story sojuc 
years ago in one of my books, imputing it 
to a fictitious hero, yet this is its true origin, 
according to my recollection. 

"What immediately followed I do not 
clearly remember, but one result is distinct- 
ly traced in my memory. In the evening 
of this eventful day, the school-mistress paid 
my parents a visit, and recounted to their 
astonished ears this, my awful contempt of 
authority. My father, after hearing the 
story, got up and went away; but my 
mother, who was a careful disciplinarian, 
told me not to do so again ! I always had 
a suspicion that both of them smiled on one 
side of their faces, even while they seemed 
to sympathize with the old petticoat and 
penknife pedagogue, on the other; still I 
do not affirm it, for I am bound to say, of 
both my parents, that I never knew them, 
even in trifles, say one thing while they 
meant another. 

"I believe I achieved the alphabet that 
summer, but my after progress, for a long 
time, I do not remember. Two years later 
I went to the winter-school at the same place, 
kept by Lewis Olmstead — a man who had a 
call for plowing, mowing, carting manure, 
22 * 



he performed. I did as well as the other 
scholars, certainly no better. I had excel- 
lent health and joyous spirits; in leat/mg, 
ruiuiing, and wrestling, I had but one su- 
perior of my age, and that was Stephen 
Olmstead, a snug-built fellow, smaller than 
myself, and who, despite our rivalry, \va^ 
my chosen friend and companion. 1 seemed 
to live for play : alas ! how the world has 
changed since I have discovered that we live 
to agonize over study, work, care, ambition, 

disappointment, and then ? 

" As I shall not have occasion again, for- 
mally, to introduce this seminary into my 
narrative, I may as well close my account 
of it now. After I had left my native town 
for some twenty years, I returned and paid 
it a visit. Among the monuments that 
stood high in my memory was the West 
Lane school-house. Unconsciously carrying 
with me the measures- of childhood, I had 
supposed it to be at least thirty feet square;, 
how had it dwindled when I came to esti- 
nuite it by the new standards I had form- 
ed ! It was in all things, the same, yet 
wholly changed to me. What I had deem- 
ed a respectable edifice, as it now stood be- 
fore mo was only a weather-beaten little 
shed, which, upon being measured, I found 
to be less than twenty feet square. It hap- 
pened to be a warm, summer day, and I 
ventured to enter the place. I found a girl, 



366 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



some eighteen years old, keeping ' a ma'am 
school' for about twenty scholars, some of 
Avhom were studying Parley's Geography. 
The mistress was the daughter of one of my 
schoolmates, and some of the boys and girls 
were grandchildren of the little brood which 
gathered under the wing of Aunt Delight, 
when I was an a-b-c-darian. None of them, 
not even the school-mistress, had ever heard 
of me. The name of my father, as having 
ministered unto the people of Ridgefield in 
some bygone age, was faintly traced in their 
recollection. As to Peter Parley, whose 
Geography they were learning — they sup- 
posed him some decrepit old gentleman 
hobbling about on a crutch, a long way oft', 
for whom, nevertheless, they had a certain 
aff'ection, inasmuch as he had made geogra- 
phy into a story-book. The frontispiece- 
picture of the old fellow, with his gouty foot 
in a chair, threatening the boys that if they 
touched his tender toe, he would tell them 
no more stories, secured their respect, and 
placed him among the saints in the calendar 
of their young hearts. Well, thought I, if 
this goes on I may yet rival Mother Goose ! 

'* At the age of ten years I was sent to the 
up-town school, the leading seminary of the 
village, for at this period it had not ar- 
rived at the honor of an academy, the in- 
stitution being then, and many years after, 
under the charge of Master Stebbins. lie 
was a man with a conciliating stoop in the 
shoulders, a long body, short legs, and a 
swaying walk. He was, at this period, some 
fifty years old, his hair being thin and sil- 
very, and alwxvys falling in well-combed rolls 
over his coat-collar. His eye was blue, 
and his dress invariably of the same color. 
Breeches and knee-buckles, blue-mixed stock- 
ings, and shoes with bright buckles, seemed 
as much a part of the man as his head and 
shoulders. On the whole, his appearance 
was that of the middle-class gentleman of 
the olden time, and he was in fact what he 
seemed. 

" This seminary of learning for the rising 
aristocracy of Ridgefield was a wooden edi- 
fice, thirty by twenty feet, covered with 
brown clapboards, and, excerpt an entry, con- 
sisted of a single room. Around and against 
the walls ran a continuous line of seats, front- 
ed by a continuous writing-desk. Beneath, 
■were depositories for books and writing mate- 
rials. The centre was occupied by slab seats, 
similar to those of West Lane. The larger 
gcjholars were ranged on the outer sides, at 



the desks; the smaller fry of a-b-c-darians 
were seated in the centre. The master was 
enshrined on the east side of the room, con- 
trary, be it remembered, to the law of the 
French savans, which places dominion in- 
variably in the west. Regular as the sun, 
Master Stebbins was in his seat at nine 
o'clock, and the performances of the school 
began. 

■ " According to the Catechism — which, by 
the way, we learned and recited on Saturday 
— the chief end of man was to glorify God 
and keep his commandments : according to 
the routine of this school, one would have 
thought it to be reading, writing, and arith- 
metic, to which we may add spelling. From 
morning to night, in all weathers, through 
every season of the year, these exercises 
were carried on with the energy, patience, 
and perseverance of a manufactory. 

"Master Stebbins respected his calling: 
his heart was in his work ; and so, what he 
pretended to teach, he taught well. When 
I entered the school, I found that a huge 
stride had been achieved in the march of 
mind since I liad left AVest Lane. Webster's 
Spelling Book had taken the place of Dil- 
worth, which was a great improvement. 
The drill in spelling was very thorough, and 
applied every day to the whole school. I 
imagine that the exercises might have 
been amusing to a stranger, especially as 
one scholar would sometimes go oft" in a 
voice as grum as that of a bull-frog, while 
another would follow in tones as fine and 
piping as a peet-weet. The blunders, too, 
were often ineff'ably ludicrous; even we 
children would sometimes have tittered, had 
not such an enormity been certain to have 
brought out the birch. As to rewards and 
punishments, the system was this : who- 
ever missed went down ; so that perfection 
mounted to the top. Here was the begin- 
ning of the up and down of life. 

" Reading was perlbrmed in classes, which 
generally plodded on without a hint from 
the master. Nevertheless, when Zeek San- 
ford — who was said to have a streak of 
lightning in him — in his haste to be smart, 
read the 37th verse of the 2d chapter of the 
Acts — ' Now when they heard this, they 
were pickled in their heart' — the birch stick 
on Master Stebbins's table seemed to quiver 
and peel at the little end, as if to give warn- 
ing of the wrath to come. AVhen Orry 
Keeler — Orry was a girl, you know, and not 
a boy — drawled out in spelling : k — o — n, 



PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 



36V 



/•Off, s — h — u — n — t — s, shunts^ konshunts 
— the bristles in the master's eyebrows fid^^- 
eteJ like Aunt Delio;ht's knittinoMicedles. 
Occasionally, when the readinj;^ was insup- 
portably bad, he took a book and read him- 
self, as an example. 

"Wc were taught arithmetic in Daboll, 
then a new book, and which, being adapted 
to our measures of length, weight, and cur- 
rency, was a prodigious leap over the head 
of p >or old l)il worth, wliose rules and ex- 
amples were modelled upon English customs. 
In consequence of the general use of Dil- 
worth in our schools, for perhaps a century 
— pounds, shillings, and pence were classi 
cal, and dollars and cents vulgar, f )r several 
succeeding generations. 'I would not give 
a penny for it,' was genteel ; * I would not 
give a cent for it,' was plebeian. We have 
not yet got over this : we sometimes say red 
cent in familiar parlance, but it can hardly 
be put in print w^ithout offence. 

" Master Stebbins was a great man with a 
slate and pencil, and I have an idea that we 
were a generation after liis own lieart. We 
certainly achieved wonders according to our 
own conceptions, some of us going even be- 
yond the Rule of Three, and making forays 
into the mysterious region of Vulgar Frac- 
tions. Several daring geniuses actually en- 
tered and took possession. 

" But after all, penmanship was Master 
Stebbins's great accomplishment. He had 
no maLrniloquent system ; no pompous les- 
sons upon single lines and bifid lines, and 
the like. The revelations of inspired copy- 
book makers had not then been vouchsafed 
to man. lie could not cut an American 
eagle with a single flourish of a goose-quill. 
He was guided by good taste and native 
instinct, and wrote a smooth round hand, 
like copper-plate. His lessons from A to &, 
all written by himself, consisted of pithy 
proverbs and useful moral lessons. On every 
page of our writing-books he wnjte the first 
line himself. The effect was what might 
liave been expected — with such models, pa- 
tiently enforced, nearly all became good 
writers. 

" Beyond these simple elements, the Up- 
town school made few pretensions. When 
I was there, two W^ebster's Grammars and 
one or two Dwight's Geograpliies were in 
nse. The latter was without maps or illus- 
tration<, and was in fact little more than an 
expanded table of contents, taken from 
Morse's Universal Geography — the mam- 



moth monument of American learning and 
genius of tliat age and generation. The 
grammar was a clever book ; but I have an 
idea that neither Master Stebbins nor liis 
pupils ever fathomed its depths. They floun- 
dered about in it, as if in a quagmire, and 
after some time came out pretty nearly where 
they went in, though perhaps a little obfus- 
cated by the dim and dusky atmosphere of 
these labyrinths. 

" The fact undoubtedly is, that the art of 
teaching, as now understood, beyond the 
simplest elements, was neither known nor 
deemed necessary in our country schools in 
their day of small things. Repetition, drill- 
ing, line upon line, and precept upon pre- 
cept, with here and there a little of the birch 
— constituted the entire system. 

" Let me here repeat an anecdote, which 
I liave indeed told before, but which I had 
from the lips of its hero, G . . . H . . ., a 
clergyman of some note tliirty years ago, 
and which well illustrates this part of my 
story. At a village school, not many miles 
from Ridgefield, he was put into W^ebster's 
Grammar. Here he read, * A noun is the 
name of a ihiiig — as liorse, hair, ju-tircj' 
Now in his innocence, he read it thus : ' A 
noun is the name of a thing — as horse-hair 
jus tic •J' 

" ' What then,' said he, ruminating deeply, 
'is a noun? But first I must find out what 
a horse-hair justice is.' 

" Upon this he meditated for some days, 
but still he was as far as ever from the solu- 
tion. Now his father was a man of authority 
in those parts, and moreover he was a justice 
of the peace. Withal, he was of respectable 
ancestry, and so there had descended to him 
a somewhat stately high-backed settee, cov- 
ered with horse-hair. One day, as the youth 
came from school, pondering upon the great 
grammatical problem, he entered the frcrnt 
door of the house, and there he saw before 
him, his father, ofticiating in his legal capa- 
city, and seated upon the old horse-hair set- 
tee. 'I have found it!' said the boy to 
himself, as greatly delighted as was Archim- 
edes when he exclaimed Eiinka — ' my fa- 
ther is a liorse-hair justice, and therefore a 
noun !' 

" Nevertheless, it must be admitted that 
the world got on remarkably well in spite 
of this narrowness of the country schools. 
The elements of an English education were 
pretty well taught throughout the village 
seminaries of Connecticut, and I may add, 



368 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



of New England. The teachers were heart- 
ily devoted to their profession : they re- 
gpected their calling, and were respected 
and encouraged by the community. They 
had this merit, that while they attempted 
but little, that, at least, was thoroughly per- 
formed. 

" As to the country at large, it was a day 
of quiet, though earnest action : Franklin's 
spirit was the great ' schoolmaster abroad' — 
teaching industry, perseverance, frugality, 
and thrift, as the end and aim of ambition. 
The education of youth was suited to what was 
expected of them. With the simple lessons 
of the country schools, they moved the 
world immediately around them. Though 
I can recollect only a single case — that al- 
ready alluded to of Ezekiel Sanford — in which 
one of Master Stebbins's scholars attained 
any degree of literary distinction, still, quite 
a number of them, with no school learning 
beyond what he gave them, rose to a certain 
degree of eminence. His three sons obtain- 
ed situations in New York as accountants, 
and became distinguished in their career. 
At one period there were three graduates 
of his school, who were cashiers of banks in 
that city. My mind adverts now with great 
satisfaction to several names among the 
wealthy, honorable, and still active mer- 
chants of the great metropolis, who were 
my fellow-students of the Up-town school, 
and who there began and completed their 
education." 

To the advantages, such as they were, of 
the district school, Mr. Goodrich adds an 
account of his experience on the farm, and 
his juvenile sports, as well as his early at- 
tempts at rvhittlinfi and other mechanical 
arts, and adds the following reflections : — 

•' Now all these things may seem trifles, 
yet in a review of my life, I deem them of 
some significance. This homely familiarity 
with the more mechanical arts was a mate- 
rial part of my education ; this communion 
with nature gave me instructive and impor- 
tant lessons from nature's open book of 
knowledge. My technical education, as will 
be seen hereafter, was extremely narrow and 
irregular. This defect was at last partially 
supplied by the commonplace incidents I 
have mentioned. The teaching, or rather 
the training of the senses, in the country — 
ear and eye, foot and hand, by running, leap- 
ing, climbing over hill and mountain, by oc- 
casional labor in the garden and on the farm, 
aud by the use of tools — and all this in youth, 



is sowing seed which is repaid largely and 
readily to the hand of after cultivation, how- 
ever unskilful it may be. This is not so 
much because of the amount of knowledge 
available in after-life, which is thus obtained 
— though this is not to be despised — as it 
is that healthful, vigorous, manly habits and 
associations — physical, mora!, and intellec- 
tual — are thus established and developed. 

" It is a riddle to many people that the 
emigrants from the country into the city, in 
all ages, outstrip the natives, and become 
their masters. The reason is obvious : coun- 
try education and country life are practical, 
and invigorating to body and mind, and 
hence those who are thus qualified triumph 
in the race of life. It has always been, it 
will always be so ; the rustic Goths and 
Vandals will march in and conquer Kome, 
in the future, as they have done in the past. 
I say this, by no means insisting that my 
own life furnishes any very striking proof 
of the truth of my remarks ; still, I may say 
that but for the country training and experi- 
ence I liave alluded to, and which served as 
a foothold for subsequent progress, I should 
have lingered in my career far behind the 
humble advances I have actually made. 

" Let me illustrate and verify my meaning 
by specific examples. In my youth I be- 
came familiar with every bird common to 
the country : I knew his call, his song, his 
hue, his food, his habits ; in short, his natu- 
ral history. I could detect him by his flight, 
as far as the eye could reach. I knew all 
the quadrupeds — wild as well as tame. I 
was acquainted with almost every tree, shrub, 
bush, and flower, indigenous to the country ; 
not botanically, but according to popular 
ideas. I recognized them instantly, wliere- 
ever I saw them ; I knew their forms, 
hues, leaves, blossoms, and fruit. I could 
tell their characteristics, their uses, the 
legends and traditions that belonged to 
them. All this I learned by familiarity with 
these objects ; meeting with them in all my 
walks and rambles, and taking note of them 
with the emphasis and vigor of early experi- 
ence and observation. In after days. I have 
never had time to make natural history a 
systematic study ; yet my knowledge as to 
these things has constantly accumulated, 
and that without special effort. When I 
have travelled in other countries, the birds, 
the animals, the vegetation, have interested 
me as well by their resemblances as their 
differences, when compared with our own. 



PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 



3t)9 



In looking over tlic pages of scientific works 
on natural histdry, 1 have always read with 
eagerness and intelligence of preparation ; 
indeed, of vivid and pleasing associations. 
Every idea 1 had touching these matters 
"svas living and sympathetic, and beckoned 
other ideas to it, and these again originated 
still others. Thus it is that in the race of a 
busy life, by means of a homelv, liearty start 
at tlie beginning, I have, as to these subjects, 
easily and naturally supplied, in some lium- 
blc degree, the defects of my irregular edu- 
cation, and that too, not by a process of re- 
pulsive toil, but with a relish superior to all 
the seductions of romance. I am therefore a 
believer in the benefits accruing from simple 
country life and simple country habits, as here 
illustrated, and am, thcref(jre, on all occasions 
anxiousto recommend them to my friends and 
countrymen. To city people, I would say, 
educate your children, at least partially, in the 
country, so as to imbue them with the love 
of nature, and that knowledge and training 
which spring from simple rustic sports, ex- 
ercises, and emplo3nients. To country peo- 
ple, I would remark, be not envious of the 
city, for in the general balance of good and 
evil, you have your full portion of the first, 
with a diminished share of the last." 

THE HOMESPUN ERA OF COMMON SCHOOLS. 
BY HORACE BUSHNELL, D.D. 

" But the schools — we must not pass by 
these, if we are to form a truthful and sufla- 
cient picture of the homespun days. The 
schoolmaster did not exactly go round the 
district to fit out the children's minds with 
learning, as the shoemaker often did to fit 
their feet with shoes, or the tailor to mea- 
sure and cut for their bodies ; but, to come 
as near it as possible, he boarded round, (a 
custom not yet gone by,) and the wood for 
the common fire was supplied in a way 
equally primitive, viz., by a contributicMi of 
loads from the several families, according to 
their several quantities of childhood. The 
children were all clothed alike in home- 
spun ; and the only signs of aristocracy 
were, that some were clean and some a de- 
gree less so, some in fine white and striped 
linen, some in brown tow crash ; and, in 
particular, as I remember, with a certain 
feeling of quality I do not like to express, 
the good fathers of some testified the opin- 
ion they had of their children, by bringing 
fine round loads of hickory wo(jd to warm 
them, while some others, I regret to say. 



brought only scanty, scraggv, illdooking 
heaps of green oak, white bircli, and hem- 
lock. Indeed, about all the bickerings of 
quality among the children, centered in the 
quality of the wood pile. There was no 
complaint, in those days, of the want of 
ventilation ; for the large open fire-place 
held a considerable fraction of a cord of 
wood, and the windows took in just enough 
air to supply the combustion. Besides, the 
bigger lads were occasionally ventilated, by 
being sent out to cut wood enough to keep 
the fire in action. The seats were made of 
the outer slabs froin the saw-mill, supported 
by slant legs driven into and a proper dis- 
tance through auger lioles, and planed 
smooth on the top by the rather tard}' 
process of friction. But the spelling went 
on bravely, and we ciphered away again 
and again, always till we got through Loss 
and Gain. The more advanced of us, too, 
made light work of Lindley Murray, and 
went on to the parsing, finally, of extracts 
from Shakspeare and Milton, till some of us 
began to think we had mastered their tough 
sentences in a more consequential sense of 
the term than was exactly true. O, I re- 
member ("about the remotest thing I can 
remember) that low seat, too high, never- 
theless, to allow the feet to touch the floor, 
and that friendly teacher Avho had the ad- 
dress to start a first feeling of enthusiasm 
and awaken the first sense of power. He is 
living still, and whenever I think of him, he 
rises up to me in the far background of 
memory, as bright as if he had worn the 
seven stars in his hair. (I said he is living; 
yes, he is here to-day, God bless him !) 
How many others of you that arc here as- 
sembled, recall these little primitive univer- 
sities of homespun, where your mind was 
born, with a similar feeling of reverence 
and homely satisfaction. Perhaps you re- 
member, too, with a pleasure not less genu- 
ine, that you received the classic discipline 
of the university proper, under a dress of 
homespun, to be graduated, at the close, 
in the joint honors of broadcloth and the 
parchment." 

We might add other lights and shades to 
the picture of school life as it was down to a 
very recent period in New England and New 
York, but we must refer our readers to that 
amusing and instructive volume of Rev. War- 
ren Burton, " The District School as it was." 
We must pass to the elementary schools of 
Pennsylvania and the Southern States. 



370 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



LETTER FROM WILLIAM DARLINGTON, M.D., 
LL.D. 

" At your request, T propose to attempt a 
brief and hasty sketch of my acquaintance 
with, and reminiscences of the Country 
Schools, and their condition, some sixty-five 
or seventy years since, in the south-eastern 
corner of the state of Penns} Ivania ; more 
particularly the school at IMrmingham, Ches- 
ter county, where the limited instruction of 
my youthful days was chiefly acquired. 

" My earliest recollections of the school to 
which I was sent go back to that trying pe- 
riod of loose govei'nment, rusticity, and 
scarcity experienced in the interval between 
the War of Independence and the adoption 
of the Federal Constitution; and if it were 
given me to wield the pen of Tom Broivn 
of RiKjhy, I might peradventure furnish some 
graphic details of our rural seminaries of 
learning in those days of general destitution. 
But, under present circumstances, I can only 
offer the imperfect narrative of incidents and 
observations, as retained in an almost octo- 
genarian memory. 

"At the time when I was first sent to 
school — say in 1787-8 — school-houses were 
rare; and there was little or no organization 
for their maintenance. The country round, 
having been recently ravaged by a hostile 
army, was scantily supplied with teachers, 
who occasionally obtained schools by going 
among the principal families of the vicinage, 
and procuring subscribers for a quarter's tui- 
tion of the children on hand. Those who 
were too young to be serviceable on the 
farm were allowed to go to school in the 
summer season ; but the larger ones (expcr- 
tus loquor) could only be spared for that 
purpose during winter. The extent of rural 
instruction was then considered to be prop- 
erly limited to what a worthy London alder- 
man designated as the three R's, viz., 'Read- 
ing, Riting, and Rithmetic' To cipher 
beyond the Rtde of Three was deemed a 
notable achievement and mere surplusage 
among the average of country scholars. 
The business of teaching, at that day, was 
disdainfully regarded as among the hum- 
blest and most unprofitable of callings; and 
the teachers — often low-l)red, intemperate 
adventurers from the old woikl — were gen- 
erally about on a par with the prevalent es- 
timate of the profession. Whenever a thrift- 
less vagabond was found to be good for 
nothing else, he would resort to school-Jceep- 



ing, and teaching young American ideas 
liow to shoot ! It was my good fortune, 
however, to have a teacher who was a dis- 
tinguished exception to the sorry rule re- 
ferred to. John Forsythe was a native of 
the Emerald Isle, born in 1754, received a 
good English education at home, and while 
yet a young man, migrated to the county of 
Chester, in the land of Penn, Avhere he be- 
came an excellent schoolmaster. When he 
arrived in our quakerly settlement, he was a 
gay young Pi'esbyterian, dressed in the fash- 
ionable apparel of the woild's people ; and 
being withal musical in his taste, was an ex- 
pert performer on the violin. He soon, how- 
ever, adopted the views and principles of the 
' Fiiends,' among whom he remained, mar- 
ried one of the society, and was ever reccg- 
nized as an exemplary and valuable member. 

" As the head and master-spii it of the 
school, at Birmingham meeting-house, es- 
tablished under the auspices of the Quaker 
society, he taught for a number of years, 
and always applied himself con ariiorc to his 
arduous duties. He accomplished moie in 
exciting a taste for knowledge and develop- 
ing young intellects, than any teacher who 
had theretofore labored in that hopeful \ ine- 
yard. He effectually routed the lingering 
old superstitions, prejudices, and benighted 
notions of preceding generations, and ever 
took delight in introducing youthful genius 
to the bright fields of literature and science. 
The young men of his day, who have since 
figured in the world, were deeply indebted 
to John Forsythe for the aid which he af- 
forded them in their studies, as well as for 
the sound doctrines which he inculcated ; 
and some few of them yet survive to make 
the grateful acknowledgment. 

" When the noble Quaker institution at 
West-town was erected, near the close of the 
last century, the skill and experience of John 
Forsythe were put in recpiisition, until it was 
fairly inaugurated ; after which he retii-ed to 
his comfortable farm, in East Bradford, 
where he passed a venerable old age, until 
his 87th year, in superintending agricultural 
employments and in manifesting a lively in- 
terest in the progress of education among 
our people. No instructor has labored in 
this community more faithfully, nor with 
better effect. None has left a memory more 
worthy to be kindly cherished. 

"The old school house nt Birmingham was 
a one story stone building, erected by men 
who did not understand the subject ; and 



PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 



3Y1 



Was badly li<j^litt'(l and ventilated. The dis- 
cipline of that day (adopted from the mother 
country) was pretty severe. The real birch 
of the botanists not being indigenous in the 
inunediate vicinity of the school, an (^fTicient 
stibstiliitc was found in young apple tree 
sj)routs, as uiu'uly boys were abundantly 
al)le to testify. 

" The school hooks ( if my earliest recollection 
were a cheap iMiglish sj>elling book, the Jii- 
ble for the reading classes, and when we got 
to ciphei'ing, the 'Schoolmasters' Assistant.' 
The 'Spelling Book' and ' Assistant' wtn-c 
bv Thomas Dihvorth, an English school- 
master at Wapping. The ' Assistant' was a 
useful work, but has long since disappeared. 
The 'counterfeit presentment' of the worthy 
author faced the title-page, and was famil- 
iaily known to every schoolboy of my time. 
The Spelling Book contained a little ele- 
mentarv grannnar, in which the English sub- 
stantives were declined through all the cases 
(genitive, dative, etc.) of the Latin. But 
prammar was then an unknown study among 
us. Dilworth's ' Spelling Book,' however, 
was soon superseded by a greatly improved 
one, compiled bv John Pierce, a respect- 
able teacher of I)elaware county, Pennsyl- 
vania. This comprised a tolerable English 
grammar, f )rthat period, and John Forsythe 
introduced the study into his school with 
much zeal and earnestness. Intelligent em- 
ployers were made to compreliend its advan- 
tages, and were pleased with the prospect 
of a hopeful advance in that direction ; but 
dull boys and illiterate parents could not ap- 
])reciate the benefit. Great boobies often 
got permission, at home, to evade the study, 
but they could not get round John Forsythe 
in that way. They would come into school 
with this promised indulgence, and loudly 
announce, 'Daddy says I needn't lam gram- 
mar ; it's no use :' when the energetic re- 
sponse from the desk was, ' I don't care 
vvliat daddy says. lie knows nothing about 
it ; and I say thou shalt learn it !' and so 
some general notion of the subject was im- 
pressed upon the minds even of the stupid; 
while many of the brighter youths became 
excellent grammarians. 

" In this Friendly seminary we were all re- 
quired to use the plain language in conver- 
sation, being assured that it was wrong, both 
morally and grammatically, to say you to 
one person. Our teacher contrived a meth- 
od of his own for mending our cacology, 
even while at our noonday sports. lie pre- 



pared a small piece of board or shingle, 
which he termed & paddle ; and whenever a 
boy was heard uttering bad grannnar, he 
had to take the paddle, step aside, and re- 
frain fi'om play, until he detected sonie other 
unlucky urchin tresj)assing upon syntax; 
when he was authorized to transfer the 
badge of interdiction to the last otfender, 
and resume his amusements. It was really 
curious to observe liow critical we soon be- 
came, and how much improvement was ef- 
fected by this whimsical and simple device. 

"Pierce's 'Spelling Book' kept its position 
in our school for several years, but was at 
length superseded, in the grammatical de- 
partment, by a useful little volume, prepared 
by John Comly, of Bucks county, IV'unsy!- 
vania. Z-nrf^fyJ/wrray and others prepared 
elaborate gi'ammars, which were successively 
introduced, iis our schools improved or cre- 
ated a demand ; and so rapidly liave the 
bookmakiiig competitors in that department 
multiplied that their name is now legion, 
and the respective value of their works is 
known oidy to experts in the art of teach- 
ing. 

"Excellent works in Reading and E'ocution 
are now so abundant and well known in all 
our respectable seminaries, that they need 
not to be here enumerated. One of the best 
and most popular of those works, some half 
century or more since, was a volume entitled 
' The Art of Speaking,' comj>iled, I think, 
by a Mr. Rice, in England. 

" But, as we have now reached the age of 
academies, normal institutes, and sdiools for 
the people, I presume you will gladly forego 
a further extension of this pi'osy narrative, 
so little calculated to interest a veteran in 
the great cause of education. I have ever 
been a sincere friend and advocate of the 
blessing; but, unfortunately, my ac(piaint- 
aucc with it has been mainly limited to a 
liumbling consciousness of my deliciencies 
in the ennobling attainment. 

" Very respectfully, 

" Wm. Darlington. 
"West Chester, Pa., Dec. 21, IHGO." 

schools in PHILADELPHIA. 

The following picture of the intornal econ- 
omy of one of the best schools of Phila- 
delphia, is taken from Watson's " Annals 
of Philadelphia and Pennsylvania." 

" My facetious friend, Lang Syne, has pre- 
sented a lively picture of the ' schoolmas- 



3V2 



EDUCATION AffD EDUCATIOKAL INSTITtfTtONS. 



ters' in those days, when ' preceptors,' and 
' principals,' and * professors' wei-e yet un- 
named. What is now known as ' Friends' 
Academy,' in Fourtli street, was at tliat time 
occupied by four different masters. The 
best room down-stairs by Robert Proud 
Latin master; the one above him, by Wil- 
liam Waring, teacher of astronomy and math- 
ematics ; the east room, up-stairs, by Jere- 
miah Paul, and the one below, ' last not 
least' in our remembrance, by J. Todd, and 
severe he was. The State House clock, be- 
ing at the time visible from the school pave- 
ment, gave to the eye full notice when to 
break off marble and plug top, hastily col- 
lect the ' stakes,' and bundle in, pell-mell, 
to the school-room, where, until the arrival 
of the ' master of scholars,' John Todd, 
they were busily employed, every one in 
finding his p'ace, under the control for the 
time of a short Irishman, usher, named Jim- 
my M'Cue. On the entrance of the master, 
all shuffling of the feet, ' scrouging,' hit- 
ting of elbows, and whispering disputes, 
were hastily adjusted, leaving a silence 
which might be felt, ' not a mouse stir- 
ring.' He, Todd, dressed after the plainest 
manner of Friends, but of the richest ma- 
terial, with looped cocked hat, was at all 
times remarkably clean and nice in his per- 
son, a man of about sixty years, square 
built, and well sustained by bone and mus- 
cle. 

"After an hour, maybe, of quiet time, 
every thing going smoothly on — no sound, 
but from the master's voice, while hearing 
the one standing near him, a dead calm, 
when suddenly a brisk slap on the ear or 
face, for something or for nothing, gave 
' dreadful note' that an eruption of the 
lava was now about to take place. Next 
thing to be seen was ' strap in full play 
over the head and shoulders of Pilgarlic' 
The passion of the master ' growing by 
what it fed on,' and wanting elbow room, 
the chair would be quickly thrust on one 
side, when, with sudden gripe, he was to be 
seen dragging his struggling suppliant to 
the flogging ground, in the centre of the 
room ; having placed his left foot upon the 
end of a bench, he then, with a patent jerk, 
peculiar to himself, would have the boy com- 
pletely horsed across his knee, with his left 
elbow on the back of his neck, to keep him 
securely on. In the hurry of the moment 
he would bring his long pen with him, 
griped between his strong teeth (visible the 



while), causing both ends to descend to 
a parallel with his chin, and adding much 
to the terror of the scene. Ilis face wou'd 
assume a deep claret color — his little bob of 
hair would disengage itself, and stand out, 
each ' particular hair' as it were, ' up in 
arms and eager for the fray.' Having his 
victim thus completely at command, and all 
useless drapery drawn up to a bunch above 
the waistband, and the rotundity and the 
nankeen in the closest affinity possible for 
them to be, then once more to the ' staring 
crew' would be exhibited the dexterity of 
master and strap. By long practice he had 
arrived at such perfection in the exercise, 
that, moving in quick time, the fifteen inches 
of bridle rein (alias strap) would be seen 
after every cut, elevated to a perpendicular 
above his head ; from whence it descended 
like a flail on the stretched nankeen, leav- 
ing ' on the place beneath' a fiery red 
streak, at every slash. It was customary 
with him to address the sufferer at intervals, 
as follows : ' Does it hurt V * Oh ! yes, 
master ; oh ! don't, master.' ' Then I'll 
make it hurt thee more. I'll make thy flesh 
creep — thou shan't want a warming pan to- 
night. Intolerable being ! Nothing in na- 
ture is able to prevail upon thee but my 
strap.' He had one boy named George 
Fudge, who usually wore leather breeclies, 
with which he put strap and its master at 
defiance. He would never acknowledge 
pain— he would not ' sing out.' Todd seiz- 
ed him one day, and having gone through 
the evolutions of strapp ng (as useless, in 
effect, as if he had been thrashing a flour- 
bag), almost breathless with rage, he once 
more appealed to the feelings of the ' repro- 
bate,' by saying : ' Does it not hurt ?' The 
astonishment of the school and the mas- 
ter was completed, on hearing hini sing 
out, ' No ! Hurray for leather crackers !' 
He was thrown ofl' immediately, sprawling 
on the floor, with the benediction as follows : 
' Intolerable being ! Get out of my school. 
Nothing in nature is able to prevail upon 
thee — not even my strap !' 

" 'Twas not ' his love of learning was in 
fault,' so much as the old British system of 
introducing learning and discipline into the 
brains of boys and soldiers by dint of pun- 
ishment. The system of flogging on all 
occasions in schools, for something or for 
nothing, being protected by law, gives free 
play to the passions of the master, which 
he, for one, exercised with great severity. 







IMKUIOH VIEW OF A SLllU »1 Ilul --I N liiO 



,-^,f i-if^'„,;;:!^«ill 




INTERIOR VIKW Ul' A SJCliOOL-lIOUSK IN ISTU. 



PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 



373 



The writer has, at this moment, in liis mem- 
ory, a schoohnastcr then of this city, who, a 
few years ago, went deliberately out of his 
seliool to purchase a cow-skin, with which, 
on his return, he extinguished his bitter re- 
venge on a boy who had oti'ended him. 
The age of chivalry preferred ignorance in 
its sons, to liaving them subjected to the 
fear of a pedagogue — believing that a boy 
who had quailed under the eye of the 
schoolmaster, would never face the enemy 
with boldness on the field of battle ; which 
it must be allowed is ' a swing of the pen- 
dulum' too f;ir the other way. A good 
writer says : ' We do not harden the wax 
to receive the impression — wherefore, the 
teacher seems himself movst in need of cor- 
rection — for he, unfit to teach, is making 
them unfit to be taught !' 

" I have been told by an aged gentleman, 
that in the days of his boyhood, sixty-five 
years ago, when boys and girls were to- 
gether, it was a common practice to make 
the boys strip ofi' their jackets, and loose 
their trowsers' band, preparatory to lioisting 
them upon a boy's back so as to get his 
whipping, with only the linen between the 
flesh and the strap. The girls too — we 
pity them — were obliged to take off their 
stays to receive their floggings with equal 
sensibility. He named one distinguished 
lady, since, who was so treated among oth- 
ers, in his school. All the teachers then 
were from England and Ireland, and brought 
with them the rigorous principles which 
had before been whipped into themselves at 
home." 

Robert Coram, in a pamphlet devoted in 
part to a " Plan for the General Establish- 
ment of Schools throughout the United 
States," printed in Wilmington, Delaware, 
in 1791, characterizes the state of education 
as follows : '• The country schools, through 
most of the United States, whether we con- 
sider the buildings, the teachers, or the reg- 
ulations, are in every respect completely des- 
picable, wretched, and contemptible. The 
buddings are in general sorry hovels, neither 
wind-tight nor water-tight ; a few stools 
serving in the double capacity of bench and 
desk, and the old leaves of copy books ma- 
king a miseral)le substitute for glass win- 
dows. The teachers arc generally foreign- 
ers, shamefully deficient in every qualifica- 
tion necessary to convey instruction to 
youth, and not seldom addicted to gross 



vices. Absolute in his own opinion, and 
proud of introducing what he calls his Euro- 
pean method, one calls the first letter of the 
alphabet, aw. The scho(d is modified upon 
this plan, an<l the children who are advanced 
are beat and cufi'ed to forget the former 
mode they have been taught, which irritates 
their minds and retards their progress. The 
quarter being finished, the children lie idle 
until another master otTers, few remaining in 
one place more than a cpiarter. When the 
next schoolmaster is introduced, he calls the 
first letter a, as in mat; the school under- 
goes another reform, and is equally vexed 
and retarded. At his removal a third is in- 
troduced, who calls the first letter haij. All 
these blockheads are equally absolute in 
their own notions, and will by no means 
suflfer the children to pronounce the letter 
as they were first taught ; but every three 
months the school goes through a reform — 
error succeeds error, and dunce the second 
reigns like dunce the first. 1 will venture 
to pronounce, that however seaport towns, 
from local circumstances, may have good 
schools, the country schools will remain in 
their present state of despicable wretched- 
ness, uidess incorporated with government. 
* * * 'pj,3 necessity of a reformation in 
the country schools is too obvious to be in- 
sisted on ; and the first step to such a re- 
formation will be by turning private schools 
into public ones. Tiie schools should be 
public, for several reasons — 1st. Because, as 
has been before said, every citizen has an 
equal right to subsistence, and ought to have 
an equal opportunity of acquiring knowl- 
edge. 2d. Because public schools are 
easiest maintained, as the burtlien falls upon 
all the citizens. The man who is too 
squeamish or lazy to get married, contrib- 
utes to the support of public schools, as 
well as the man who is burthened with a 
large family. But private schools are sup- 
ported ouly by heads of families, and by those 
ordy while they are interested ; for as soon 
as the children are grown up, their support 
is withdrawn ; which makes the employ- 
ment so precarious, that men of ability and 
merit will not submit to the trifling salaries 
allowed in most country schools, and which, 
by their partial support, cannot afford a bet- 
ter." 

SCHOOL HOLIDAY IN GEORGIA. 

We have not been very successful in gath- 
ering the printed testimony of the dead, or 



374 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



the vivid reminiscences of the living, respect- 
ing the internal economy of schools, public 
or family, in any of the Southern states prior 
to 1800. The following graphic sketch of 
" the turn out" of the schoolmaster, from 
Judge Longstreet's " Georgia Scenes," is 
said to be " literally true :" 

" In the good old days of fescues, ahisself- 
as and anpersants,* terms which used to be 
familiar in this country during the Revolu- 
tionary war, and which lingered in some of 
our country schools for a few years after- 
ward, I visited my friend Captain Griffen, 
who resided about seven miles to the east- 
ward of Wrightsborough, then in Richmond, 
but now in Columbia county. I reached the 
captain's hospitable home on Easter, and 
was received by him and his good lady with 
a Georgia welcome of 1790. 

" The day was consumed in the inter- 
change of news between the captain and 
myself (though, I confess, it might have 
been better employed), and the night found 
us seated round a temporary fire, which the 
captain's sons had kindled up for the pur- 
pose of dyeing eggs. It was a common cus- 
tom of those days with boys to dye and 
peck eggs on Easter Sunday, and for a few 
days afterward. They were colored accord- 
ing to the fancy of the dyer ; some yellow, 
some green, some purple, and some with a 
variety of colors, borrowed from a piece of 
calico. They were not unfrequently beauti- 
fied Avith a taste and skill which would have 
extorted a compliment from Hezekiah Niles, 
if he had seen them a year ago, in the hands 
of the ' young operatives,'' in some of the 
northern manufactories. No sooner was the 
work of dyeing finished, than our ' young 
operatives' sallied forth to stake the whole 
proceeds of their * domestic industry' upon 
a peck. Egg was struck against egg, point 
to point, and the egg that was broken was 



* The fescue was a sharpened wire or other instru- 
ment used by the preceptor to point o«t the letters 
to the children. 

Abisselfa is a contraction of the words " a by it- 
self, a." It was usual, when either of the vowels 
constituted a syllable of a word, to pronounce it, 
and denote its independent character by the words 
just mentioned, tluis : " a by itself, a, c-o-r-u corn, 
acorn;^' "e by itself, e, v-i-1, evil" etc. 

The character which stands for the word " and " 
(&) was prot^ably pronounced with the same accom- 
paniment, but in terms borrowed from the Latin lan- 
guage, thus: "&j;er5e" (by itself) and. Hence, "an- 
persant." 



given up as lost to the owner of the one 
Avhich came whole from the shock. 

" While the boys were busily employed 
in the manner just mentioned, the captain's 
youngest son, George, gave us an anecdote 
highly descriptive of the Yankee and Geor- 
gia character, even in their buddings, and 
at this early date. ' What you think, pa,' 
said he, ' Zeph Pettibone went and got his 
uncle Zach to turn him a wooden egg ; and 
he won a whole hatful o' eggs from all us 
boys 'fore we found it out ; but, when we 
found it out, maybe John Brown didn't 
smoke him for it, and took away all his 
eggs, and give 'em back to us boys ; and 
you think he didn't go then and git a guinea 
egg, and win most as many more, and John 
Brown would o' give it to him agin if all we 
boys hadn't said we thought it was fair. I 
never see such a boy as that Zeph Pettibone 
in all my life. He don't mind whipping no 
more 'an nothing at all, if he can win eggs.' 

" This anecdote, liowever, only fell in by 
accident, for there was an all-absorbing sub- 
ject which occupied the minds of the boys 
during the whole evening, of which I could 
occasionally catch distant hints, in under 
tones and whispers, but of which I could 
make nothing, until they were afterward ex- 
plained by the captain himself. Such as 
' I'll be bound Pete Jones and Bill Smith 
stretches him.' 'By Jockey, soon as they 
seize him, you'll see me down upon him like 
a duck upon a June-bug.' ' By the time he 
touches the ground, he'll think he's got into 
a hornet's nest,' etc. 

" ' The boys,' said the captain, as they re- 
tired, ' are going to turn out the schoolmas- 
ter to-morrow, and you can perceive they 
think of nothing else. We must go over to 
the schoolhouse and witness the contest, in 
order to prevent injury to preceptor or pu- 
pils ; for, though the master is always, upon 
such occasions, glad to be turned out, and 
only struggles long enough to present his 
patrons a fair apology for giving the child- 
ren a holiday, which he desires as much as 
they do, the boys always conceive a holiday 
gained by a ' turn out' as the sole achieve- 
ment of their valor ; and in their zeal to dis- 
tinguish themselves upon such memorable 
occasions, they sometimes become too rough, 
provoke the master to wrath, and a very se- 
rious conflict ensues. To prevent these con- 
sequences, to bear witness that the master 
was forced to yield before he would with- 
hold a day of his promised labor from his 



PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 



375 



ejnployers, and to act as a mediator between 
him aud the boys in settliiiijf tlie articles of 
peace, I always attend ; and you must ac- 
company me to-morrow.' I cheerfully pro- 
mised to do so. 

" The captain and I rose before the sun, 
but the boys had risen and were otf to the 
school-house before the dawn. After an ear- 
ly breakfsist, hurried by Mrs. G. for our ac- 
comminlation, my host and myself took up 
our line of march toward the school-house. 
We reached it about half an hour before the 
master arrived, but not before the boys had 
completed its fortifications. It was a simple 
log pen, about twenty feet square, with a 
doorway cut out of the logs, to which was 
fitted a rude door, made of clapboards, and 
swung on wooden hinges. The roi)f was 
covered with clapboards also, and retained 
in their pla 'cs by heavy logs placed on them. 
The chimney was built of logs, diminishing 
in size from the ground to the top, and over- 
spread inside and out with red clay mortar. 
The classic hut occupied a lovely spot, over- 
shadowed by majestic hickories, towering 
poplars, and strong-armed oaks. The little 
plain on which it stood was terminated, at 
the distance of about fifty paces from its 
door, by the brow of a hill, which descended 
rather abruptly to a noble spring that gush- 
ed joyously forth among the roots of a state- 
ly beech at its foot. 

'' The boys had strongly fortified the school- 
house, of which they had taken possession. 
The door was barricaded with logs, which I 
should have supposed would have defied the 
combined powers of the whole school. The 
chimney, too, was nearly filled with logs of 
goodly size ; and these were the only pass- 
ways to the interior. I concluded, if a turn 
out was all that was necessary to decide the 
contest in favor of the boys, they had al- 
ready gained the victory. They had, how- 
ever, not as much confidence in their out- 
works as I had, and therefore had armed 
themselves with long sticks, not for the pur- 
pose of using them upon the master if the 
battle should come to close quarters, for this 
was considered unlawful warfare, but for the 
purpose of guarding their works from liis ap- 
proaches, which it was considered perfectly 
lawful to protect by all manner of jabs and 
punches through the cracks. From the ear- 
ly assembling of the girls, it was very ob- 
vious that they had been let into the con- 
spiracy, though tliey took no part in the 
active operations. They would, however, 



occasionally drop a word of encouragement 
to the boys, such as ' I wouldn't turu out 
the master; but if I did turn him out, Td 
die before Fd give up.' 

" At length" xMr. iMichael St. John, the 
schoolmaster made his appearance. Thousxh 
some of the girls had met him a quarter of 
a mile from the scliDol-house, and told him 
all that had happened, he gave signs of sud- 
den astonishment and indignation when he 
advanced to the door, and was assailed by a 
whole platoon of sticks from the cracks : 
' Why, what does all this mean V said he, 
as he approached the captain and myself, 
with a countenance of two or thre« varying 
expressions. • 

" ' Why,' said the captain, 'the boys have 
turned you out, because you have refused to 
give them an Easter holiday.' 

"'Oh,' returned Michael, 'tliat's it, is it? 
Well, I'll see whether their parents are to 
pay me iov letting their children play wlien 
they please.' So saying, he advanced to 
the school-house, and demanded, in a lofty 
tone, of its inmates, an unconditional sur- 
render. 

" ' Well, give us a holiday, then,' said 
twenty little urchins within, ' and we'll let 
you in.' 

'' * Open the door of the acadermf — 
(Michael would allow nobody to call it a 
school-house) — 'Open the door of the acad- 
emy this instant,' said Michael, 'or I'll break 
it down.' 

" ' IJreak it down,' said Pete Jones and 
Bill Smith, ' and we'll break you down.' 

" During this colloquy I took a peep into 
the fortress, to see how the garrison were 
affected by the parley. Tlie little ones were 
obviously panic-struck at the first words of 
command ; but their fears were all chased 
away by the bold determined reply of Pete 
Jones and Bill Smith, and they raised a 
whoop of defiance. 

" Michael now walked round the academy 
three times, examining all its weak points 
with great care. He then paused, retlected 
for a moment, and wheeled oft' suddenly to- 
ward the woods, as thougli a bright thought 
had just struck him. He passed twenty 
tilings which I supposed he might be in 
quest of, such as liuge stones, fence rails, 
portable logs, and the like, without bestow- 
ing the least attention upon them. lie 
went to one old log, searched it thoroughly, 
then to another, then to a hollow stump, 
peeped into it with great care, then to a 



376 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



hollow log, into which he looked with equal 
caution, and so on. 

" ' What is he after V inquired I. 

" ' I'm sure I don't know,' said the cap- 
tain, ' but the boys do. Don't you notice 
the breathless silence which prevails in the 
school-house, and the intense anxiety with 
which they are eyeing him through the 
cracks ?' 

" At this moment Michael had reached a 
little excavation at the root of a dogwood, 
and was in the act of putting his hand into 
it, when a voice from the garrison exclaimed, 
with most touching pathos, ' Lo'd o' messy, 
ke"s found my eggs ! boys, let's give up.' 

" ' I won't give up,' was the reply from 
many voices at once. 

" ' Rot your cowardly skin, Zeph Petti- 
bone, you wouldn't give a wooden egg for 
all the holydays in the world.' 

" If these replies did not reconcile Zeph- 
aniah to his apprehended loss, it at least si- 
lenced his complaints. In the mean time 
Michael was employed in relieving Zeph's 
storehouse of its provisions ; and, truly, its 
contents told well for Zeph's skill in egg- 
pecking. However, Michael took out the 
eggs with great care, and brought them 
within a few paces of the schoolhouse, and 
laid them down with equal care in full view 
of the besieged. He revisited the places 
which he had searched, and to which he 
seemed to have been led by intuition ; for 
from nearly all of them did he draw eggs, 
in greater or less numbers. These he treated 
as he had done Zeph's, keeping each pile 
separate. Having ari-anged the eggs in 
double files before the door, he marched be- 
tween them with an air of triumph, and 
once more demanded a surrender, under 
pain of an entire destruction of the garri- 
son's provisions. 

" ' Break 'em just as quick as you please,' 
said George Griffin ; * our mothers '11 give 
us a plenty more, won't they, pa?' 

" ' I can answer for yours, my son,' said 
tbe captain ; ' she would rather give up 
every egg upon the farm than to see you 
play the coward or traitor to save your prop- 
erty.' . 

" Michael, finding that he could make no im- 
pression upon the fears or the avarice of the 
boys, determined to carry their fortifications 
by storm. Accordingly he procured a heavy 
fence-rail, and commenced the assault upon 
the door. It soon came to pieces, and the 
upper logs fell out, leaving a space of about 



three feet at the top. Michael boldly en- 
tered the breach, when, by the articles of 
war, sticks were thrown aside as no longer 
lawful weapons. He was resolutely met on 
the half-demolished rampart by Peter Jones 
and William Smith, supported by James 
Griflin. These were the three largest boys 
in the school ; the first about sixteen years 
of age, the second about fifteen, and the 
third just eleven. Twice was Michael re- 
pulsed by these young champions ; but the 
third eftbrt carried him fairly into the fort- 
ress. Hostilities now ceased for a while, 
and the captain and I, having levelled the 
remaining logs at the door, followed Michael 
into the house. A large three inch plank 
(if it deserve that name, for it was ^yrought 
from the half of a tree's trunk entirely with 
the axe), attached to the logs by means of 
wooden pins, served the whole school for a 
writing desk. At a convenient distance be- 
low it, and on a line with it, stretched a 
smooth log, resting upon the logs of the 
house, which answered for the writers' seat. 
Michael took his seat upon the desk, placed 
his feet on the seat, and was sitting very 
composedly, when with a simultaneous move- 
ment, Pete and Bill seized each a leg, and 
marched off with it in quick time. The 
consequence is obvious; Michael's head first 
took the desk, then the seat, and finally the 
ground (for the house was not floored), with 
three sonorous thumps of most doleful por- 
tent. No sooner did he touch the ground 
than he was completely buried with boys. 
The three elder laid themselves across his 
head, neck and breast, the rest arranging 
themselves ad iibituni. Michael's equanim- 
ity was considerably disturbed by the first 
thump, J>ecame restive with the second, and 
took flight with the third. His first effort 
was to disengage his legs, for without them 
he could not rise, and to lie in his pres- 
ent position was extremely inconvenient and 
undignified. Accordingly he drew up his 
right, and kicked at random. This move- 
ment laid out about six in various direc- 
tions upon the floor. Two rose crying : 
'Ding his old red-headed skin,' said one 
of them, ' to go and kick me right in 
my sore belly, where I fell down and raked 
it, running after that fellow that cried " school 
butter." '* 



* " I have never been able to satisfy myself clearly 
as to the literal meaning of these terms. They were 



PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 



377 



" ' Drot his old snai^gle-tooth picture,' said 
the other, 'to ^o and hurt my sore toe. wliere 
I knocked the nail off tjoint; to the sprinjx to 
fetch a ojourd of tvarter for him, and not for 
myself n'other.' 

'"'Ihit!' said Captam Griffin, * youn<T 
Washingtons mind these trities ! At Iiim 
aj^aiii.' 

" The name of Washington cured their 
wounds and dried up their tears in an in- 
stant, and they lejjged him de novo. The 
left leg treated six more as unceremoniously 
as the right had those just mentioned ; but 
the talisinanic name liad just fallen upon 
their ears before the kick, so they were in- 
vulnerable. They therefore returned to the 
attack without loss of time. The struggle 
seemed to wax hotter and hotter for some 
time after iNIichael came to the ground, and 
lie threw the children about in all directions 
and postures, giving some of them thrusts 
which would have placed the rujle-shirtcd 
little darlings of the present day under the 
discipline of paregoric and opodeldoc for a 
week; but these hardy sons of the south 
seemed not to feel them. As Michael's head 
grew easy, his limbs, by a natural sympathy, 
l)ecame more quiet, and he oflered one day's 
holiday as the price. The boys demanded 
a week ; but here the captain interposed, and 
after the common but often unjust custom 
of arbitrators, split the difference. In this 
instance the terms were equitable enough, 
and were immediately acceded to by both 
parties. Michael rose in a good humor, and 
the boys were of course. Loud was their 
talking of their deeds of valor as they re- 
tired. One little fellow about seven years 
old, and about three feet and a half high, 
jumped up, cracked his feet together, and 
exclaimed, ' By jingo, Pete Jones, Bill 
Smith and me can hold any Sinjin [St. John] 
that ever trod Georgy grit.' " 



considered an unpardonable insult to a country 
scliool, and always justified an attack by tlie wliole 
fraternity upon the person who used them in tiieir 
lieariniij. I liave known the scholars pursue a trav- 
eller two miles to be revenged of the insult. Prob- 
ably they are a corruption of ' The school's better.' 
' Better'' was the term commonly used of old to de- 
note a superior, as it sometimes is in our day: 
' Wait till your betters are served,' for example. I 
conjecture, therefore, the expression just alluded to 
was one of challeng:e, contempt, and defiance, by 
which the person who used it avowed himself the 
superior in all respects of the whole school, from the 
preceptor down. If any one can give a better ac- 
count of it, I shall be pleased to receive it." 



AN OLD KIELD SCHOOL, OR ACADEMY, IN 
VIRGINIA. 

The experience of one of that class of 
teachers, who f)und temporary occupation 
in teaching the children of one or more fam- 
ilies of j)l:uitcrs in Virginia and otluM- south- 
ern states, will be found in the "Travels of 
Four Years and a Half in the United States 
(in 1798, 179!), 1800, 1801 and 1802), by 
John Davis." Mr. Davis was an English- 
man of more than ordinary education and 
of social address, and while in this country 
numbered among his fiends such men as 
Aaron Burr, President Jefferson, and other 
lAen of high political standing. lie was a 
private tutor in New York, South Carolina 
and Virginia, aiul his graphic sketches of 
men and manners show some of the defi- 
ciencies in the means of education which 
even wealthy planters in the southern states 
experienced. With letters of introduction 
from President Jetl'erson he proceeds to the 
plantation of a Mr. l>all, and is engaged to 
teach his and his neighbors' cliildi'cn: 

" The following day every farmer came 
from the neighborhood to the house, who 
had any children to send to my Academy, 
for such they did me the honor to term the 
log-hut in which I was to teach. Each man 
brought his son, or his daughter, and re- 
joiced that the day was arrived when their 
little ones could light their tapers at the 
torch of knowledge ! I was confounded at 
the encomiums they heaped upon a man 
whom they had never seen before, and was 
at a loss what construction to put upon 
their speech. No price was too gi'eat for 
the services I was to render their children ; 
and they all expressed an eagerness to ex- 
change perishable coin for lasting knowl- 
edge. If I would continue with them seven 
vears ! only seven years ! they would erect 
for me a brick seminary on a hill not far off; 
but f)r the present I was to occupy a log- 
house, which, however homely, would soon 
vie with the sublime college of William and 
Mary, and consign to obli\ion the renowned 
academy in the vicinity of Fauquier Court- 
Ilouse. I thought Englishmen sanguine ; 
but these Virginians were infatuated. 

" I now opened what some called an acad- 
emy,* and others an Old Field School ; 

* " It is worth the while to describe the academy 
I occupied on Mr. Ball's phuitation. It had one 
room and a half. It stood ou blocks about tsvo feet 



378' 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



and, however it may be thoujyht that con- 
tent was never felt within the walls of a 
seminary, I, for my part, experienced an ex- 
emption from care, and was not such a fool 
as to measure the happiness of my condition 
by what others thonsrht of it. 

" It was pleasurable to behold my pupils 
enter the school over which I presided ; for 
they were not composed only of truant boys, 
but some of the fairest damsels iu the coun- 
try. Two sisters generally rode on one 
horse to the school-door, and I was not so 
great a pedagogue as to refuse them my as- 
sistance to dismount from their steeds. A 
runiiiiig-footman of the negro tribe, who 
followed with their food iu a basket, took 
care of the beast ; and after being saluted 
bv the young ladies with the courtesies of 
the morning, I proceeded to instruct them, 
with gentle exhortations to diligence of 
study. 

" Common books were only designed for 
common minds. The unconnected lessons 
of Scot, the tasteless selections of Bingham, 
the floiid harangues of Noah Webster, aud 
the somniferous compilation of Alexander, 
were either thrown aside, or suffered to 
gather dust on the shelf; while the charm- 
ing essays of Goldsmith, and his not less 
delectable Novel, together with the impres- 
sive work of Defoe, and the mild produc- 
tions of Addison, conspired to encliant the 
fancy, and kindle a love of reading. The 
thoughts of these writers became engrafted 
on the minds, and the combinations of their 
diction on the language of the pupils. 

" Of the boys I cannot speak in very en- 
comiastic terms; but they were perhaps like 
all other school-boys, that is, more disposed 
to play truant than enlighten their minds. 



and a half above the ground, where there was free 
access to tlie hogs, the dogs, and the poultry. It 
had no ceiling, nor was the roof lathed or plaster- 
ed, but covered with shingles. Hence, when it 
rained, like the nephew of old Elwes, I moved my 
bed (for I slept in my academy) to the most com- 
fortable corner It had one window, but no glass, 
nor shutter. In the night, to remedy this, the mu- 
latto wench who waited on me, contrived very in- 
geniously to place a square board ajrainst the win- 
dow with one hand, and fi.x the rail of a broken 
down fence against it with the other In the morn- 
ing, when I returned from V)reakfasting in the 
'great big house,' (my scholars being collected,) I 
gave the rail a forcible kick with my foot, and down 
tumbled the board with an awful mar. ' Is not my 
window,' said I to Virginia, ' of a very curious con- 
struction?' 'Indeed, indeed, sir,' replied ray fair 
disciple, 'I think it is a mighty noisy one.' " 



The most important knowledge to an Amer- 
ican, after that of himself, is the geography 
of his country. I, therefore, put into tlie 
hands of my boys a proper book, and ini- 
tiated them by an attentive reading of the 
discoveries of the Genoese ; I was even so 
minute as to impress on their miuds the 
man who first descried land on board the 
ship of Columbus. That man was Roderic 
Triana, and on my exercising the memory 
of a boy bv asking him the name, he very 
gravely made answer, Roderic Random. 

" Among my male students w.as a New 
Jersey gentleman of thirty, whose object 
was to be initiated in the language of Cicero 
and Virgil. He had before studied the 
Latin grammar at an academy school (I use 
his own words) in his native state; but the 
academy school being burnt down, his gram- 
mar, alas ! was lost in the conflagration, 
and he had neglected the pursuit of liteia- 
ture since the destruction of his book. 
When I asked him if he did not think it 
was some Goth who had set fire to his acad- 
emy school, he made answer, * So, it is like 
enough.' 

" Mr. Dve did not study Latin to refine 
his taste, direct his judgment, or enlatge his 
imagination; but merely that he might be 
enabled to teach it when he opened school, 
which was his serious design. He had been 
bi'cd a carpenter, but he panted for the hon- 
ors of literature." 

Mr. Davis accounts for his fidelity in 
teaching more hours than he was requii'ed 
to do by his contract, by his interest in the 
lessons of one of his female pupils : 

" Hence I fi-equently protracted the stud- 
ies of the childi'en till one, or half past one 
o'clock ; a practice that did not fail to call 
forth the exclamations both of the white 
and the black people. Upon my word, Mr. 
Ball would say, this gentleman is diligent ; 
and Aunt Patty the negro cook would re- 
mark, ' He good cool-mossa that ; he not 
like old Hodgkiuson and old Harris, who 
let the boys out before twelve. He deserve 
good wages !" 

" Having sent the young ladies to the 
family mansion, I told the boys to l)r('ak 
up, and in a few minutes they who had 
even breathed with circumspection, now 
gave loose to the most riotous merriment, 
and betook themselves to the woods, follow- 
ed by all the dogs on the plantation." 

" There was a carpenter on the planta- 
tion, whom Mr. Ball had hired by the year. 



PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTARY SCHOOLS. 



379 



He hdd tools of all kinds, and the recreation 
of Mr. Iho, after the labor of study, was to 
got under the shade of an oak, and make 
tables, or benches, or stools for the acade- 
my. So true is the assertion of Horace, 
that the cask will always retain the flavor 
of the licjuor with which it is tirst impreg- 
nated. 

" ' Well, Mr. Dye, what are you doing V 
" ' T am making a table for the academy 
school.' 

" ' What wood is that ?' 
" ' Tt is white oak, sir.' 
" * What, then you are skilled in trees, you 
can tell oak fioin hickory, and ash from fir V 
"'Like enough, sir. (Abroad grin.) I 
ought to know those things ; I served my 
time to it.' 

"' Ca'pcnter. — I find, sir, Mr. Dye has done 
with his old trade; he is above employing 
his hands; he wants work for the brain. 
"Well! larning is a fine thing ; there's noth- 
ing like larning. I have a son only five 
years old, that, with proper larning, I should 
not despair of seeing a member of Congi-ess. 
He is a boy of genus; he could play on the 
Jews-harp from only seeing Sambo tune it 
once.' 

" ' Mr. Dye. — I guess that's Billy ; he is a 
right clever child.' 

" ' Carpenter. — How long, sir, will it take 
you to learn Mr. Dye Latin ?' 

" ' Sell 00/ master. — How long, sir, would it 
take me to ride from Mr. Ball's plantation 
to the plantation of Mr. Wormley Carter?' 

" ' Carpenter. — Why that, sir, I suppose, 
would flepciid upon your horse.' 

" ' Schoolmaster. — Well, then, sir, you 

solve your own interrogation. But here 

comes Dick. What has ho got in his hand V 

" ' Mr. Dye. — A mole like enough. Who 

are you bringing that to, Dick ?' 

" ' Dick. — Not to you. You never gave 
mc the taste of a dram since I first know'd 
you. Worse luck to me; you New Jersey 
men are close shavers ; I believe you would 
skin a louse. This is a mole. I liave 
brought it for the gentleman who came from 
beyond sea. He never refuses Dick a dram; 
I would walk through the wilderness of Ken- 
tucky to serve him. Lord ! how quiet he 
keeps his school. It is not now as it was ; 
the boys don't go clack, clack, clack, like 
'Squire Pendleton's mill upon Catharpin 
Run !' 

*' ' School muster. — You have brought that 
mole, Dick, for me.' 



" ' D'ck. — Yes, master, but first let me tell 
you the history of it. Tliis mole was once 
a man ; see, master (Dick exhibits the mole), 
it has got hands and foot just like you and 
me. It was once a man, but so proud, so 
lofty, so pufted-up, that God, to punish his 
insolence, condenmed him to crawl under 
the earth.' 

" ' Schoolmaster. — A good fable, and not 
unha|)pilv moralized. Did you ever hear or 
rea<l of this before, Mr. Dye ?' 

" ' Afr. Dije. — Nay (a broad grin), I am 
right certain it does not belong to ^Esop. 
I am certain sure Dick did not find it there.' 

" ' Dirk. — Find it where ? I would not 
wrong a man of the value of a gram of corn. 
I came across the mole as I was hoeing the 
potato-patch. Master, shall I take it to the 
school-liouse ? If you are fond of birds, I 
know now for a mocking-bird's nest ; I am 
only afearod those young rogues, the school- 
boys, will find out the tree. They play the 
mischief with every thing, they be full of 
devilment. I saw Jack Lockhart throw a 
stone at the old bird, as she was returning 
to feed her young; and if I had not coaxed 
him away to look at my young puppies, he 
would liave found out the nest.' 

" I had been three months invested in 
the first executive ofl^ce of pedagogue, 
when a cunning old fox of a New Jersey 
planter (a Mr. Lee) discovered that his eld- 
est boy wrote a better hand than I. Fame 
is swift-footed; vires aq'drit (undo; the 
discovery spread far and wide ; and whither- 
soever I went, I was an object for the hand 
of scorn to point his slow uninoving finger 
at, as a schoolmaster that could not write. 
Virginia gave me for the persecutions I 
underwent a world of sighs, her swelling 
boavons rose and fi-ll with indignation at old 
Lee and his abettors. But tlus boys caught 
spiiit from the discovery. I could perceive 
a mutiny breaking out among them ; and 
had I not in time broke down afew bi-anches 
from an apple tree before my door, it is 
probable they would have displayed their 
gratitude for my instructions by throwing 
me out of my school-window. But by argu- 
ing with one over the shoulders, and another 
over the back, I maintained w^ith dignity the 
first executive office of pedagogue. 

" I revenged myself amply on old Loe. 
It was the custom of his son (a lengthy fel- 
low of about twenty) to come to the acade- 
my with a couple of huge mastitis at his 
heels. Attached to their master {par uobde 



380 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



fratrum) they entered without ceremony 
Pohoke Academy, bringing with them myr- 
iads of fleas, wood-lice, and ticks. Nay, 
they would often annoy Virginia, by throw- 
ing themselves at her feet, and inflaming the 
choler of a little lap-dog, which I had bought 
because of his diminutive size, and which 
Virginia delighted to nurse for me. I could 
perceive the eye of Virginia rebuke me for 
sufteriiig the dogs to annoy her; and there 
lay more peril iu her eye than in tlie jaws 
of all the mastift's in Prince William County. 

" ' Mr. Lee,' said I, ' tliis is the third time 
I have told you not to convert the academy 
into a kennel, and bring your dogs to school.' 
Lee was mending his pen 'judgmatically.' 
He made no reply, but smiled. 

" I knew old Dick the negro had a bitch, 
and that his bitch was proud. I walked 
down to Dick's log-house. Dick was beat- 
ing flax. 

" ' Dick,' said I, ' old Farmer Lee has 
done me much evil — (I don't like the old 
man myself, master, said Dick) — and his 
son, repugnant to my express commands, 
has brought his father's two plantation dogs 
to the academy. Revenge is sweet — ' 

" ' Right, master,' said Dick. ' I never 
felt so happy as when I bit off Cutfey's 
great toe and swallowed it — 

" '■ Do you, Dick,' said I, ' walk past the 
school-house with your bitch. Lee's dogs 
will come out after her. Go round with 
them to your log-house; and when you have 
once secured them, hang both of them up by 
the neck.' 

" ' Leave it to me, master,' said Dick. 
* I'll fix the business for you in a few min- 
utes. I have a few fadoms of rope in my 
house — that will do it.' 

" I returned to the academy. The dogs 
■were stretched at their ease on the floor. 
' Oh ! I am glad yon are come,' exclaimed 
Virginia; ' those great big dogs have quite 
scared me.' 

" In a few minutes Dick passed the dc>or 
with his slut. Quick from tlie floor rose 
Mr. Lee's two dogs, and followed the female. 
The rest may be supplied by the imagina- 
tion of the reader. Dick hung up both 
the dogs to the branch of a pine-tree ; old 
Lee lost the guards to his plantation ; the 
negroes broke open his barn, pilfered his 
sacks of Indian corn, rode his horses in the 
night — and thus was I revenged on Alexan- 
der the coppersmith. 

" Three months had now elapsed, and I 



was commanded officially to resign my sove- 
reign authority to Mr. l^ye, who was in 
every respect better qualified to disrha;ge 
its sacred functions. He understood tare 
and tret, wrote a copper-plate hand, and, 
balancing himself upon one leg, could flour- 
ish angels and corkscrews. I, therefore, 
gave up the ' academy school' to Mr. Dye, 
to the joy of the boys, but the sorrow of 
Virginia." 

Whilst schools were thus poorly equipped 
and the instruction given was thus defective 
in its methods and meagi'e in its extent, it 
becomes of interest to inquire whence such 
a measure of general intelligence and so 
many individual cases of attaining to an emi- 
nent position in society. This was the re- 
sult of no single cause alone, but of a variety 
in combination. 

The first of these that may be named, both 
in its influence upon childhood and upon 
manhood, was the necessity of a hard fought 
battle for existence, but relieved by the as- 
surance that victory would be the reward of 
persistent exertion. Its results were robust- 
ness, patience of toil, resoluteness and per- 
severance in encountering difficulties, and 
fertility of resources. The rustic lad, — and 
making the necessary vaiiations, we include 
the female sex with the representative male, 
— the rustic lad who had been ti'aiued to 
help his parents from the moment he had 
acquired strength to steady his steps, to toil 
on all the same whether the bright sun 
cheered him or the chill air benumbed his 
limbs ; whether his tasks were varied, pleas- 
ant and light, or, on the contrary, he had 
learned patience, marching beside the patient 
ox all the long hours of a long spring day, 
the animals only alternating with others 
which served as relays ; and had been no 
stranger to such discipline as picking stones 
in the stubble whilst the sad heavens distil- 
led a drizzly rain, they condensing all their 
gloom in his soul, but withheld those large 
and frequent drops which would have been 
the signal of his release ; and among the 
least severe of whose lessons iu acquiring 
hardihood had been, in gathering the fruits 
of autumn, to face its frosts without mittens 
or shoes ; this lad found nothing in the diffi- 
culties of the school-room to appall him, and 
storms and deep drifts rather added zest to 
his daily walks. No unintelligible jargon of 
the spelling book, no abstruse section in his 
reader, was an overmatch for his industry. 



PUOORESS OF COMMON OU ELEMENTAUY SCHOOLS. 



381 



Tnic, he (.lid not uiulerstaiul all lie stiiclied, 
but ho learned to spoil and to read and to 
coinniit to inemory what was assigned him. 
And when ho took his aritlnnotic, which con- 
tained only definitions, rules and examples, 
ah hough his teacher vouchsafed him little 
e.\[)lanation, he had perseverance enough to 
ponder every dark process till light broke 
throuffh. And there were instances of boys 
who worked for consecutive hours and days 
at problems confessedly some of the most 
knotty that could be found, till at last their 
unaided exertit)ns were rewarded with suc- 
cess, which brought more exquisite joy than 
ever thrilled the tinder of a larc gem. These 
exceptional cases stimulated the more dull, 
and most became possessed of at least the 
rudiments of the science, quite sufficient for 
practical life, or which umler the stimulus of 
necessity became s>ibse(|Uontly enlarged to 
that extent. In manhood no blind adherence 
to traditional methods was or could be ob- 
served. Emergencies were constantly arising 
which taxed ingenuity to the utmost in de- 
vising the fitting expedients to meet them. 
It was a daily study to make the nari'owest 
means serve the same ends as the amplest. 
Hard thought was expended without stint 
upon labor-saving processes, improvements 
and inventions. Thus was gained a disci- 
pline of mind beyond what the higher col- 
lege mathematics usually imparts, and oft- 
times a readiness in applying mechani- 
cal principles, of which many an engineer 
trained in the schools is utterly devoid, how- 
ever prompt he may be in the routine to 
which he is accustomed. 

The family training, aside from the inuring 
of children to patient industry, contributed 
greatJy to their profiting from their school 
privileges. To do or not to do was not then 
left so generally to the child's pleasure. He 
was made to obey before he had experienced 
the delight of carrying into efi'oct his own 
will in opposition to that of others; and 
thus was formed the habit of unquestioidng 
compliance with the requirements of parents. 
AVhen the child could understand the sub- 
ject, he was taught that however irksome at 
times were the tasks imposed upon him, it 
was only in virtue of the allotment that man 
was to eat bread by the sweat of his brow, 
and that only by a cheerful pei-fonnance of 
what was within his power could lie make a 
return for the care he was continually re- 
ceiving. Thus from a sense of religious and 
filial obligation the rigor of their early disci- 
23 * 



pline was the more easily sustaiiici]. Self- 
control and a certain measure of sell-reliance 
were results of the disci |)line of infancy 
even ; and in advancing childhood it was in- 
cidcated in the house and in the field, that 
each must depend upon himself for what- 
ever he was to be and to possess in life. 
And knowlodge, knowledge; that was not the 
mere blind reripicnt of instruction, intelli- 
gent knowledge which perceived relaiions, 
and reasoning knowledge which could make 
the practical ap|)lication as opportuinty 
served, was set forth as the condition indis- 
pensable to render exertion successful. Hence 
it was a prized privilege to go to school, as 
well as a pleasant exchange for physical toil 
for a brief period, an exchange of work at 
home for another variety of work in the 
school-room, not of one manner of bus^y i<lle- 
ness and mischief for another. Also in many 
cases the home was itself a school, and either 
tliat knowledge was there gained whi(!h oth- 
ers acquired at school, or .study was further 
pursued under the guidance of parent, or 
brother or sister, who by some happy git\ 
of Providence had recpnied little tuition. 
Often also, winter evenings or other hi-,urs, 
when the labor of one pair of liands iniirht 
be spared, were passed in the social roadino- 
of instructive books. 

The listening every sc^'enth day to two 
discourses, wherein wove discussed the deep- 
est theories which can be proposed to man, 
may be named as an additional item in the 
answer to our inquiry. The clergymen of 
that day had received the best education 
that the country afforded, and were daily 
cultivating intimacy with the profoundest 
theologians. Thus they had ever thoughts 
which they had originate<I or had matle their 
own to present. Aa<t these thoughts were 
inwardly digested by a goodly nund>er of 
their hearers, and becoming a part of their 
being, they too. 

"rensoncd h'v^h 
Of Providence, foreknowledge, will and fate,' j 
Fixetl fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute;" 

and if they "found no end," they were not 
" ia wandering mazes lost," for, unlike the 
lost angels, they ruled their discussions by 
the infallible word of inspiration. It cannot 
be said that serious thought then bored, or 
that the si)arkle of the unsubstantial poera 
chierty drew, or that triviality was the char- 
acteristic of the multitude. 

The study of one book, and that the Bible, 
simple enough in parts to meet the under- 



382 



EDUCATIOIf AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



standing of the little cliild, and of interest 
enougii to absorb his attention, and in other 
parts of depths which, no finite intellect can 
sonnd, and every where, wise above the wis- 
dom of men, and without any alloy of error, 
was one of the most efficacious means of 
raising the mass of the people in intelligence, 
and in educating a few, who made it their 
constant meditation, to a nicety of discrimi- 
nation and a profundity of thought truly 
wondeiful. Take as an example one silvery 
haired man whose memory is cherished with 
veneration. His school privileges had been 
less even than the scanty annHint of most 
of his contemporaries, hardly amounting to 
thiee winter schools in all. Moreover, weak- 
ness of the eyes almost cut him off fi'om 
reading books and papers throughout his 
life. But he was able to read daily a few 
verses, sometimes several chapters, in his 
large quarto Bible, and when he read aloud, 
all untaught as he was, he read with a natu- 
ralness and gave the sense, so that the hearer 
mai'velled. Comparing scripture with scrip- 
ture, he had attained to a skill in interpret- 
ing which seldom erred. His quickness in 
detecting a fallacy or in observing a doc- 
trine which harmonized not with the living 
oracles was surpassed by very few of even 
the most highly educated of schoolmen. He 
was exceedingly retiring, but to the few who 
knew him, his life and his language seemed 
as correct as the words of that book on 
which both, with perfect naturalness, with- 
out anv tinge of formality or qnaintness, were 
modeled. Who will venture to say that this 
man's education was not incomparably supe- 
rior to that of him who has delved a whole 
life in conflicting systems, who has sought 
to know the thoughts of all reported as 
great, but who has settled nothing for him- 
self? 

The political principles which found their 
expression in the declaration of independ- 
ence, and which were a cherished inheri- 
tance from the fathers, leading to a general 
participation in the government of the coun- 
try, and producing the habit of earnestly 
debating every question of {)ublic concern, 
liad no small share of influence in exciting 
intensity and energy of mental action. By 
the fireside, in the iiehl, at the corners of the 
streets, in the shops and stores, those pow- 
ers were .developed which had further exer- 
cise in the town meeting, and carried their 
possessor to some humble position of trust 
or .authority ; and when here trained and 



shown to be capable of sustaining higher 
responsibilities, advanced him again, so that 
he who had forged iron chains, was chosen 
to fashion the more eflicacious restraints of 
laws; he who had occupied the cobbler's 
seat, was promoted to the bench of justice ; 
and he who had been wont to rule oxen was 
thought worthy to govern men. 

The newspaper, and the family, and the 
village library contributed largely to the 
general intelligence. The weekly paper fur- 
nished no small part of the topics of conver- 
sation in the family and among neighbors, 
and, in particular, supplied the pabulum for 
political discussions. The few books owned 
or borrowed wei'e carefully i-ead again and 
again. The small propiietary libi'aries fur- 
nished some of the most valuable histories 
and the choicest works in belles-lettres. It 
was not of I'are occurrence to find persons 
who .showed familiarity with Rollin, Fergu- 
son, Gibbon, Robertson, and Hume ; and 
sometimes one might even be met, who 
could give an orderly account of an entire 
work of these authors ; and there were many 
who could repeat favoiite poems, peradven- 
ture even the entire Night Thow;hts of Dr. 
Young, if that was the chosen vade viecum. 
Even some children of twelve or fifteen years 
of age, — barefoot boys who had only " noon- 
ings" and the time they might gain by man- 
ual dexterity in accomplishing their " stents," 
— had perused several of the voluminous 
historians named above. How will such 
lads compare in mental strength and vigor 
with children who willingly read nothing but 
the most exciting tales or the most intellec- 
tual pap made toothsome ? 

The observation of men and of nature, 
pursued to good advantage where no un- 
bending usages restrained free development 
of character, no wrappings of conventionali- 
ties gave a uniform semblance to all, where 
the woods and the watei's and the inhabi- 
tants thereof had only begun to recognize 
the dominion of man, quickened too by 
the necessity of turning to account every 
item of knowledge that could be gained, was 
an ample equivalent for the more compre- 
hensive speculations of mental philosophy 
and the scientific nomenclatures and descrip- 
tions of natural history to be learned from 
the mouth of the lecturer. 

Finally, those defective schools of the past 
generation did place the key of knowledge 
in the hands of the inquisitive ; which is 
near!}' all that the schools of the present day 



PROGRESS OF COMMON OR KLEMENTARV SCHOOLS. 



383 



accoinpli-li, or at least is their most valiiahlc 
result. With reading, writing, and the ele- 
ments of arithnietic, ajul the stimulus of 
necessity and emulation, and perhaps reli- 
gious principle added, he who felt any of the 
inspiiation of genius, or who became con- 
scious of a talent that had been improved, 
might advance with a speedier flight, or a 
slower and more toilsome step up the steep 
ascent to the temple of knowledge, and sit 
a crowned king on one of her numberless 
thrones. Books procured and mastered one 
at a time, moments of leisure seized and im- 
proved, oneness of aim and unfaltering per- 
severance, wrought the result. 

It is a plain inference that school educa- 
tion, as the correlate of the professional 
teacher's labors, usually receives credit to 
which it is not entitled. As we have else- 
wheic remarked, with all the agencies for 
the education and improvement of teachers, 
the public schools of Europe, with their in- 
stitutions of government and society, do 
not turn out such practical and efficient 
men as our own common schools, acting in 
concert with our religious, social <*uid politi- 
cal institutions. A boy educated in a dis- 
trict school of New England, taught for a 
few months in the winter, by a rough, half- 
educated, but live teacher, who is earning 
his way by his winter's work in the school- 
room out of the profession into something 
which will pay better, and in the summer 
bv a young female, just out of the eldest 
class of the winter school, and with no other 
knowledge of teaching than what she niay 
have gathered by observation of the diverse 
practices of some ten or twelve instructors 
who must have taught the school under the 
intermittent and itinerating system Avhich 
pro\ ;iils nniversallv in the country districts 
of New Enixland — a boy thus taught through 
his school-life, but subjected at home and 
abroad to the stirring influences of a free 
press, of town and school district meetings, 
of Constant intercourse with those who are 
miii!xliM£T in the world, and in the af!'airs of 
public life, and beyond all these influences, 
subjected early to the wholesome discipline, 
both moral and intellectual, of taking care 
of himself, and the affairs of the house and 
tlie fiirtn, will have more capacity for busi- 
ness, and exhibit more intellectual activity 
and versatilitv than the best scholar who 
ever graduated from a Prussian school, but 
•whose school life, and especially the years 
which immediately follow, are subjected to 



the depressing and repressing influences of| 
a despotic government, and to a state of 
society in which every thing is fixed both 
by law and the iron rule of custom. lint 
this superiority is not due to the school, 
but is gaineil in spite of the school. 

Now when the causes which conduced to 
this superiority aic less opeiative and lesi 
general, the improvement of schools becomes 
doubly important. This can be efiectcd only 
as the moulders of educational institutions 
intelligently apprehend their proper aim, or; 
in other words, tlie due relation of school 
education to education in its enlarged sense, 
and as they succeed in leading teachers to a 
judicious direction of their efforts, and to 
the employment of methods adapted to the 
end in view\ Omitting the ccmsideratioii 
of the last topic suggested as not embraced 
in the design of this article, we shall have 
before us a practical aim, in addition to sup- 
plying the criterion for estimating the ex- 
cellences and the defects of the education of 
the past and the present, if we consider ai 
well as we may the question, 

AVHAT IS EDUCATION? ' 

To facilitate the attainment of definiteness 
and accuracy of the conception, we shall 
attempt to distinguish the related ideas. 
And, 

1. Forma f ion of character, which is the 
most comprehensive of these related ideas, 
represents the combined result of human, 
natural and supernatural agencies in fashion- 
ing every lineament of the man in every de- 
partment of his inner being. The human 
agency embraces j)arent, brother, sister, 
nurse, playmate, teacher, chosen compaiiion, 
casual acquaintance, in short, all of his kind, 
contemporaries or predecessors, who have 
directly or indirectly contributed to the 
moulding of the man. The natural agency 
is the external world or physical universe, 
which in its influence upon persons similarly 
situated varies with their susceptibility. The 
supernatural agency comprehends that exer- 
cise of the sovereign power of the great 
First Cause, which places the individual in 
the special conditi(m and relations that at- 
tend him on his introduction into existence 
and throughout his life, with whatever of 
direct operations there may be upon the 
mind, experienced consciou.sly or unconscious^ 
ly, of divine, angelic or demom'acal origin. 
The estimate of this last influence will de- 



384 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



pend upon the theological views entertained. 
Character is raised to its highest elevation 
when the prevailing motive in the conduct 
of life is regard for the perfect will of God ; 
and it is then called piety. Education view- 
ed actively is not the correlative of forma- 
tion of character, neither, viewed as a result, 
is it identical therewith. However we may 
employ sensible objects or those only con- 
ceived of, it proceeds by human agency 
alone. Whilst the disorganization of the 
human constitution has proved beyond the 
ability of mere education to rectify, on the 
supposition that perfection of character was 
attained, education might go on indefinitely. 
Formation of character gives a certain com- 
bination of features or qualities; education 
presents cultivated susceptibilities and stores 
of gathered treasures. Strictly, education 
is always immediate. We may employ an- 
other, or assist in preparing him, to edu- 
cate a third person ; but if this is all, we are 
aot ourselves with him educators of that 
person. 

2. The development of the faculties is the 
second related idea. Development is the un- 
folding of something which had existed only 
in embryo, by exciting its diji-mant vital 
enei'gy or inherent force to activity. The 
result of the development of the mental fac- 
ulties is power, power, intellectual, moral, and 
voluntary; power of instigating and power of 
controlling action. When the moral faculty 
or conscience controls action in all the rela- 
tions of a man to his fellow-men, rectitude 
or uprightness is the result. It is the func- 
tion of education to superintend the devel- 
opment of the faculties, accelerating that of 
some, circumscribing or restraining that of 
others, and to regulate them in their exer- 
cise. Development, even when regulated by 
education, must fail to give to man perfec- 
tion of character, for it neither gives nor 
takes away, and hence original imperfection 
must remain, though it may be partially con- 
cealed. In an unregulated but stimulated 
development the proportions of what is fair 
would be outgrown and obscured by all 
forms of ugliness. 

3. Training, of which the third related 
idea is the conception, is directed specifi- 
cally to the forming of habits. Thus from 
the earliest mental training there may pro- 
ceed the habits of obedience, order, neat- 
ness, trust, gentleness, kindness, self-denial, 
&c. ; from corporeal training habits of mo- 
tion, and physical action in general. Educa- 



tion is not, like training, directed exclusively 
to the forming of habits. This is rather its 
preliminary work. 

4. Instruction is the communication of 
knowledge which may be of value to the re- 
cipient, either in itself or as a means to a re- 
moter end. Education gives the discipline 
which turns knowledge to account. Instruc- 
tion calls into exercise a sort of passive ac- 
tivity, a reception of facts and a perception 
of relations as presented. Education trains 
the pupil to discover relations, and to make 
deductions from facts, and thus excites an 
independent activity. Teachers and books 
instruct when they convey thoughts and ex- 
plain processes ; they educate in so far as 
they lead the pupil or reader to think for 
himself and to institute new processes. In- 
struct a man, and he will become avcI! in- 
formed in regard to the subject of thi' in- 
struction ; educate a man, and his mind will 
be not only furnished, but also disciplined 
and cultivated in proportion to its capacity 
and the extent of the process. Precisely the 
same process may be instruction in one re- 
spect and education in another. Often, liow- 
ever, their methods are essentially different, 
for instruction may simply labor to facili- 
tate to the utmost the acquisition of know- 
ledge, but education, whilst careful to adapt 
its requirements to the strength of the 
learner, introducing its severer methods 
gradually, and never prematurely assigning 
the abstruser branches of study, only directs 
the learner how to encounter the difficulties 
of his path, and leaves him to take every 
step for himself, aiming to bring him as soon 
as possible to the condition where he may 
dispense with all aid. Thus, although in- 
stiuction and education are inseparable, there 
may be much instruction where there is very 
little education, and very little instruction 
where there is much education. Instruction 
is limited to Avhat the teacher does; educa- 
tion is measured by what the pupil is ren- 
dered competent to perform. 

5. Tuition, distinctively regarded, has for 
its end. simply advancement in specific 
branches of study. It is related to educa- 
tion in its restricted .sense as a part to a 
whole. Also, it is objective only. 

Education, in its enlarged srnse, is the dis- 
cij)lin'nn, ciiltivatin;t, and furnishing of the 
wind of man, as a man, and for the particu- 
lar position which he is to hold. It is thus 
general and special ; general, so far as it 
seeks to advance man towards the perfection 



Progress of common or elementary schools. 



885 



of his being ; special, so far as it is directed 
to preparation for a })articiilar s|)lierc of ac- 
tivity. Discipline gives trained strength, 
the ability to exercise developed power at 
will. Culture brings the mind into the con- 
dition, relative to its capacity, to produce 
what is useful and beautiful and good and 
true. The furniture of the mind is its 
general stores. Incidental to the principal 
objects of education is physical culture. Edu- 
cation regaids the body as a casket which 
must be guarded well, that the contents re- 
ceive no injury; as a servant to be kept in 
good condition for the master's benefit. 

Education in its restricted sense is that 
evtent of mental discipline, culture and fur- 
niture, to be systematically gained under the 
direction of a teacher, which is requisite to 
the indefinite improvement of the pupil by 
liim-^elf, or to his independent completion 
of his preparation f()r his business in life. 
It is thus, like education in its enlarged 
sense, general and special. 

This last definition determines the sphere 
to which the teacher is limited, and which 
he must occupy as completely as possible. 
It dictates no uniform course or method. 
These must be varied to suit the character 
and circumstances of pn})ils. It prescribes 
for each simply the text that is practicable, 
not every thing which is desirable. Beyond 
the mere fundamental branches of knowl- 
echra it makes the furnishing of the mind a 

o ^ . . 

secondary end. It utterly forbids the stri- 
ving to make every pupil the recipient of 
all the sciences. In the most extended course 
of study it marks out the pupil's becoming 
an adecjuate self-educator as the limit of the 
teacher's duties, and the aim for the attain- 
ment of which he must strive. It counten- 
ances no forcing processes, which generate 
mere hot-bed developments, and j)revent all 
possibility of the solid growth requisite to 
convert the tender plant into the majes- 
tic tree ; and least of all, no measure tending 
to l>lunt the sensibilities or sour the dispo- 
sition. It admits that the most valuable 
part of education is what is superadded to 
the labors of the teacher, or goes on inde- 
pendently of him, but it requires of him un- 
ceasing watchfulness over his pupils, and 
consummate wisdom and skill in direct- 
ing their studies and guiding their ettorts. 
Finally, if it permits time and etFort to be 
devoted chiefly to literary attainments, it 
implies that all intellectual acquisitions must 
be made subordinate to moral culture. 



Wc will close this chapter by marking 
some of the successive steps, agencies, and 
results, in tlic development of our present 
system of public elementary education. 

1. As has been already remarked, in the 
reconstruction of civil society which follow- 
ed the change from colonies to independ- 
ent states in confederated and afterward na- 
tional union, the necessity and wisdom of 
making some provision for the education of' 
children was generally recognized, and in 
some instances thoroughly and liberally pro- 
vided for in the fundamental laws. 

The constitution of Massachusetts adopt- 
ed in 1780 has this provision: "Wisdom 
and knowledge as well as virtue ditfuscd 
generally among the body of the people,' 
being necessary for the preservation of their 
rights and liberties, and as these depend oa' 
spreading the opportunities and advantages 
of education in the various parts of the 
country, and among the dift'erent orders of 
the people, it shall be the duty of legisla- 
tures and magistrates in all future periods 
of this connnon wealth, to cherish the in- 
terests of literature and the sciences, and 
all seminaries, especially the University of 
Cambridge, public schools, and granunar 
schools in the towns ; to encourage private 
societies and public institutions, rewards and 
immunities for the promotion- of agriculture, 
arts, sciences, commerce, trades, manufac- 
tures, and a natural history of the country ; 
to countenance and inculcate the principles 
of humanity and general benevolence, public 
and private charity, industry and fi'ugality, 
honesty and punctuality in their dealings ; 
sincerity, good humor, and all social aftec- 
tions and generous sentiments among the 
peoyjle." In the revision of the school laws 
in 1789, it is provided that "towns of fifty 
families are required to sustain schools 
wherein children ai'e taught to read and 
write, and instructed in the English lan- 
guage, arithmetic, orthography, and decent 
behavior, for a term equal to one school of 
six months in each year ; every town of one 
hundred families, twelve months; every town 
of one hundred and fifty families, eighteen 
months ; and every town of two hundred 
families twelve months, and in additii>n 
thereto sustain a school wherein is tauglit 
the Latin, Greek and English languages tor 
twelve months in each year." It is also 
"made the duty of the president, professors 
and tutors of the University at Cambridge, 
preceptors and teachers of acadcuiies, aud 



386 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



all Other instructors of youth, to take dili- j 
gent care, and to exert their best endeavors 
to impress on the minds of childien and 
youth committed to their care and instruc- 
tion the principles of piety, justice and a 
sacred I'egard to truth, love to their country, 
humanity and universal benevolence, sobrie- 
ty, industry and fi'ugality, chastity, modera- 
tion and temperance, and those other vir- 
tues which are the ornament of human so- 
ciety, and the basis upon which the republi- 
can constitution is structured; and it shall 
be the duty of such instructors to endeavor 
to lead those under their care into a ]>articu- 
lar understanding of the tendency of the 
before-mentioned virtues to presei've and 
perfect a republican constitution, and to se- 
cure the blessings of liberty as well as to 
promote their future happiness, and the ten- 
dency of the opposite vices to slavery and 
ruin." 

'-."Yermont in the constitution adopted in 
1793 ordains "that a competent number of 
schools shall be maintained in each town for 
the convenient instruction of youth, and one 
or more gi-ammar schools to be incorporated 
and properly supported in each county," and 
by subsequent legislation imposed the neces- 
sary tax for theii- support. 

New Hampshire in 1789 empowers and 
requires the selectmen of the several towns 
to assess an annual tax upon the inhabitants 
for the support of a school or schools for 
teaching, reading, writing and arithmetic, 
and in each county town a grammar school 
for the purpose of teaching the Greek and 
Latin languages in addition to the other 
studies. 

Connecticut in 1795, in addition to a 
special tax for the support of common 
schools, Collectable with the other public 
taxes, appropriated the avails of the sales 
of three millions of acres of land belonging 
to the state and situated in Oliio^ since 
known as the Western Reserve — as a peipe- 
tual fund for the same object. 

New York in 1795 appropriated $50,000 
annually f>r the purpose of encouraging 
and maintaining common schools in the 
several cities and towns, which were required 
to raise by tax for the same purpose a sum 
equal to one-lialf the amount received from 
the state. 

Pennsylvania in the constitution adopted 
in 1 700 ordains "that the legislature shall 
provide bv law for the establislunent of 
schools throughout the state in such manner 



that the poor may be taught gratis ;" " and 
that the arts and sciences shall be promoted 
in one or more seminaries of learning." The 
peculiar feature in the constitution and laws 
of Pennsylvania provitling for the free edu- 
cation of the poor instead of common schools, 
was unfortunately adopted by New. Jersey, 
Delaware, Maiyland, and most of the south- 
ern states which had not enjoyed from their 
first beginnings the inestimable advantages 
of public schools "good enough for the rich 
and cheap enough for the poor." Owing to 
the sparseness of their population, their " pe- 
culiar institution," and ditficulty of establish- 
ing good school habits in any community, 
public schools have never flourished in the 
southern and south-western states. 

Virginia in 1796 passed a general school 
law, a portion of the preamble of which is as 
fillows: " AVhereas, upon a review of the 
history of mankind, it seemeth that, however 
favorable a rep\iblican government founded 
on the principles of equal liberty, justice and 
order may be to human happiness, no real 
stability or lasting permanency thereof can 
be rationally hoped for, if the minds of the 
citizens be not rendered liberal and humane, 
and be not fully impressed with the im- 
portance of those principles from whence 
these blessings proceed ; with a view, there- 
fore, to lay the first foundations of a sys- 
tem of education which may tend to pro- 
duce those desii'able purposes," etc. Georgia, 
Kentucky and Tennessee passed school laws 
with aims as generous as those of the above 
preamble ; but the institutions established 
w^ere for higher leai'uing and the few, and 
not for the gi-eat masses of the community. 

Ohio, Indiana, and all of the states foinied 
out of the north-western and Louisiana 
territories, as they were admitted into the 
Union, adopted in their organic and early 
laws provisions for the appropriation of the 
funds created out of the educational land 
gi-ants of Congress, before spoken of, to the 
support of connnon schools and colleges, on 
the {)lan of the eastern states. But it was 
soon found that it was not sufficient to pass 
laws, or even appropriate money liberally for 
the support of schools; those laws must be 
efficiently and uniforndy administered, and 
the condition of the schools be brought con- 
stantly to the attention of the legislature and 
the people. 

2. New York was the first state to create 
an officer to look after the operations of the 
school law, and to advise and assist local 



PROGRESS OF COMMON OR ELEMENTAltY SCHOOLS, 



887 



school officers in its a<lniiuistration. The 
appointment by the Icgishitme in 1813 of 
Gideon Ihiulev as superintendent of com 
mon schools, and his annual reports to the 
lej^islature on the working of the system, 
Constitute an imj)ortant era in the history 
of public instruction in the United States. 
Other states created the oflice, but devolved 
its aduiiuistration on some other department 
already burdened with other and dissimilar 
duties. In 182(3 Massachusetts required le- 
turns to be made of the condition of the 
public schools of each town, and in 18:^6 in- 
stituted a state board of education, with a 
salaried secretary wliosc business it was made 
" to collect information of the actual condi- 
tion and etHciency of the connnon schools 
and other means of popular education, and 
dirt"u.-e as widely as possible throuixhout 
every part of the state information of the 
most approved methods of conducting the 
education of the young, that they may ha\e 
the best education that common schools can 
be made to imjiart." This example was fol- 
lowed by Connecticut in 18;^8, and in less 
than ten years this great interest of public 
instruction, so far as covered by elementary 
schools, was recognized as a legitimate de- 
partment of the government, in all the 
northern and western states. 

Under the able and enthusiastic leadership 
of Horace Mann, the first secretary of the 
board of education in Massachusetts, the va- 
rious ])lans and suggestions w hich had been 
proposed for ten or fifteen years presious, for 
the improycment of common schools, were 
matured and applied in the most efficient 
manner. Conventions of teachers, parents 
and friends of popidar education were held 
for addresses and discussions, in every state, 
and in almost every county in every state 
wliich had appointed either a single officer, 
or a board with a paid secretary, to look 
after this interest. The regular and punctual 
attendance of all the children of a suitable 
age at school, the advantages of a gi'adation 
of schools, of ])arcntal visits to the schools, 
of an association of the teachers for mutual 
improvement, and the visiting of each other's 
schools; the evils arising from an improper 
h>cation, construction and furniture of school 
houses, from a diversity of text books in the 
same study, from a midtiplicity of studies in 
the same school, from the neglect of the 
young pupils and tjie primary studies, from 
a constant change of teachers, from the em- 
ployment of teachers not properly (pialified, 



from severe and unnatural punishments, 
from the want of suitable a[)i)aratus, from 
the mechanical processes of teaching read- 
ing, arithmetic, and other studies, fVom the 
neglect of moral education, these and other 
subjects were discussed in official i-eports, in 
the public press, and in professional school 
journals. Out of the more enlightened and 
interested public opinion of the cttuntry, 
in neighboihoods. villages, and cities, liave 
resulted wise legislation, efficient organiza- 
tion, vigorous administration, and liberal ap- 
propriations, in respect to the material outfit 
of scho(.)ls; and with these, but not as rapidly 
or as widely, ha\e "grow-n up better school at- 
tendance, more philosophical arrangement of 
studies, and improved methods of instruction 
and discipline. 

','}. Since 1840 the most marked improve- 
ment in. the organization, administralion and 
instruction of pul>lic schools, has been made 
in the larger cities of the several states, 
sometimes under the general school law of 
the state, but generally under special legisla- 
tion. AVith the exception of Boston and a 
few of the other lai'ge cities of New Eng- 
land, the system of public schools was alto- 
gether inadecjuate to the educational wants 
of large communities. Expensive private 
schools were the main reliance f )r the edu- 
cation of the children. of professional and 
wealthy families, while a large mimber of 
those whose means wei-e inadcipiate, were 
left without provision for their instruction. 
The establishment of schools of difierent 
grades for children of difierent ages and 
studies, and especially of primary schools for 
young chill lien under female teachers, and 
of a high school f )r the older boys and girls 
in studies heretofore pursued only in expen- 
sive private schools,-has greatly increased the 
attendance and elevated the character of the 
j)ublic scIk^oIs of our cities. By menns of 
evening schools which have been established 
in many of our cities, the defective educa- 
tion of many young men has been remedied, 
and their various emphtyments ha\e been 
converted into more efficient instruments of 
self-culture. 

4. With the improvement of schools in 
cities and large villages, the establishment 
of normal schools, teachers' associations, 
teachers' institutes, and educational jour- 
nals, and state and local supervision, the 
coimtry sclmols tliroughout the northern and 
western states are now in a good and hi^peful 
condition. 



388 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



CHAPTER IV. 

ACADEMIES, HIGTI SCHOOLS, AND GTfTER 
INSTITUTIONS OF SECONDARY EDUCA- 
TION. 

The first public schools of the American 
colonies were the free endowed grammar 
schools and subscription grammar schools ; 
schools for secondary education. Public pri- 
mary or elementary common schools were 
of later date, both in chronological order, 
and as being a logical result of their prede- 
cessors of higher grade. 

The first school laws, those of Connecti- 
cut and Massachusetts, Avhich were subse- 
quent to the establishment by individuals or 
towns of the classes of schools they referred 
to, recognized all three grades of education- 
al institutiims, both what are at present 
termed common or elementary, and also 
secondary or superior; that is to say, com- 
mon or neighborhood schools, gi'ammar 
schools, and colleges. 

The class of secondary schools, since the 
very earliest period of their establishment, 
has been far less cherished and supported, 
either by public opinion or by legal provis- 
ions, than either of the other two classes. 
Almost universally, the academy, the en- 
dowed school, the grammar school, has been 
wholly left to the support of those wealthier 
or more learned classes who have been ta- 
citly assumed to have the only use for them ; 
and where any state assistance has been ex- 
tended to them, it has usually been in the ex- 
ceptional form of individual acts of incorpo- 
ration or individual grants of money or land. 

It may be observed that such a co-equal 
public recognition, if extended to the class 
of secondary schools, would at once produce 
a definite and important result, in throwing 
probably half of what may be termed the 
present secondary course of study back with- 
in the course of the elementary grade of 
schools, and also in bringing back a large 
number of what are termed colleges into 
their appropriate grade of secondary institu- 
tions. 

The noticeable and important fact is more- 
over thus brought 'out, that public opinion 
in the United States has never, up to the 
present time, demanded or recognized any 
universal privilege of education beyond that 
in the merest rudiments of it. 

This neglect has of course caused the ex- 
isting almost entire deficiency of recorded 
statistics of schools of this class. Such sta- 



tistics are not accessible at all, except in the 
single state of New York, and even there, 
only from such secondary institutions as are 
obliged to furnish them as a condition of 
their receipt of a portion of the literature 
fund. This remark is not aj)plicable to the 
grade of schools known as public high 
schools, for boys or girls, or both, in several 
of our larger cities ; but these schools, 
few in number and of modern origin, are 
not so much the outgrowth of popular feel- 
ling, as the creations of a few intelligent 
friends of public education, in advance of 
any general demand for this class of institu- 
tions. Although not recognized generally 
as part of our systems of public instruction, 
schools of the former class have increased 
rapidly, and now exist in almost every village 
in the land, and their aggregate number in 
1850, according to the census of that year, 
will be seen in the table on page 451. 

The progress of this class of schools, in 
respect to studies, books, and equipment 
generally, and methods of instruction and 
discipline, can be readily measured by any 
one who will look into the best academy or 
public high school in his neighborhood, and 
then read the following communications — 
the first by the Hon. Josiah Quincy, respect- 
ing one of the earliest institutions of the class 
known as academies ; and the other two 
by eminent public men, respecting the pub 
lie schools, and particularly the Latin school 
of Boston, as it was prior to or about the 
beginning of the present century, and at 
that time pronounced " the best on the 
American continent." 

" Mr. Barnard : Dear Sir — You ask biief- 
ly the position of Pliillips Academy as to 
studies, text-books, methods, and discipline. 
That academy was founded in the year 1 778, 
in the midst of the war of the Revolution, 
by the united contributions of three broth- 
ers — Samuel, John, and AVilliam Phillips — 
all of them men of property according to 
the scale of that day, and all of a libei'al spiiit 
toward every object, religious, moral, or ed- 
ucational. But the real author and instiga- 
tor of that foundation was the only son of 
the first of the above-named, who was known 
during the early period of his life by the 
name of Sanniel ]^h Uhps, Junior. He was, 
during his whole life, one of the most dis- 
tinguished, exemplary, and popular men in 
Massachusetts ; active, spirited, infiuential, 
and ready, and a leader in every good work,' 



ACADEMIES, HIGH SCHOOLS, ETC. 



389 



and he had tlie control of the licarts of liis 
father and two undes, and was undoubtedly 
the intlucntial spirit giving vitality to the 
plan of that institution. There was only 
one academy in the state at that time — Dum- 
mer Academy at Newbury — which, although 
it had sent forth many good scholars, was 
then gi>iiig to decay ; and the beautiful and 
connnandiug site in the south parish of An- 
dover which that institution now occupies, 
was uncpicstionablv one of the causes of the 
idea of the iustitution as well as of its lo- 
cality. Eliphalet Pearson had been educa- 
ted at Dummcr Academy, was distiuguislied 
for his schidarship and zeal in the cause of 
classical learning; Samuel Phillips, jr., had 
ftM-ined aniutimacy with him at college, though 
in diti'erent classes, and entertained a high 
opinion both of his literary attainments and 
spirit of di-^cipline. Phillips Academy was 
projected with reference to his becoming its 
first master; and his aid was joined with 
that of his friend Phillips in forming the con- 
stitution of the academy. 

"The time of its foundation was unques- 
tionably most inauspicious to its success, 
but young Phillips was of a spirit that 
quailed before no obstacles. It was designed 
to be a model institution of the kind, and 
no pains were omitted to secure its success ; 
and notwithstanding the uncertainties of the 
political aspect of the time and the perpetu- 
ally increasing depreciation of paper money, 
it was sustained in great usefulness .and pros- 
perity. I was sent to that academy within 
a month after its opening, in May, 1778, 
being the seventh admission on its catalogue. 
I had just then entered upon my seventh 
year, and was thrust at once into my Latin 
at a period of life when noun, pronoun, and 
participle were terms of mysterious mean- 
ing which all the explanations of my gram- 
mars and my masters for a long time vainly 
attempted to make me comprehend. But the 
laws of the school were impericjus. They 
had no regard for my age, and I was for 
years submitted to the studies and discipline 
of the seminary, which, though I could re- 
peat the former, through want of compre- 
hension of their meaning, I could not possi- 
bly understand. I was sent to the academy 
two years at least before I ought to have 
been. But William Phillips was my grand- 
father ; it was deemed desirable that the 
founders of the academy should show confi- 
dence in its advantages; I was, therefore, 
sent at once, upon its first opening, and I 



have always regarded the severe disci[)linc 
to which I was subjected, in consequence of 
the inadequacy of my years to my studies, 
as a humble contribution toward the success 
of the academy. 

"The course of studies and text-books I do 
not believe I can from memory exactly re- 
capitulate ; I cannot, however, be far out 
of the way in stating that ' Cheever's Ac- 
cidence' was our first book ; the second, 
'Corderius;' the third, 'Nepos;' then, if 
T mistake not, came ' Virgil.' There may 
have been some intermediate author which 
has escaped my memory, but besides \'iigil 
I have no rcccjllection of any higher author. 

" Our grammar was ' Ward's,' in w hich all 
the rules and explanations are in Latin, and 
we were drilled sedulously in writing this 
language far enough to get into the univer- 
sity. Our studies in Gi-eek were very slight 
and superficial. Gloucester's Greek (Tram- 
mar was our guide in that language, aiul a 
thorough ability to construe the four Gos- 
pels was all required of us to enter the col- 
lege. 

" These are the best answers I can give to 
your inquiries on the subject of ' studies 
and text-books,' but I am not confident that 
my memory serves me with exactness. Our 
preparation was limited enough, but suffi- 
cient for the poverty and distracted state of 
the period. 

" Of ' methods and discipline,' for which 
you inquire, I can only say that the former 
was strict and exact, and the latter severe. 
Pearson was a convert to thoi'ough disci- 
pline ; monitors kept an account of all of a 
student's failures, idleness, inattention, whis- 
pering, and like deviations from order, and 
at the end of the week were bestowed sub- 
stantial rewards for such self-indulgences, 
distributed upon the head and hand with no 
lack of strength or fidelity. 

" In that day aiithmetic was begun at the 
university. The degree of prepai-ation for col- 
lege and the amount of the studies within it 
are not worthy of remembrance when com- 
pared with the means of ac<piirement now 
presented to the aspiring student. 

" Your other incjuiries I should be happy 
to make the subject of reply, but long ces- 
sation of familiarity with the objects to which 
they relate makes me dubious of my power 
to add any thing important to their history. 
My knowledge of the connnon schools of 
Boston was obtained only during the vaca- 
tions of the academy, and had chief refer- 



390 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



ence to improvement in my writing. Their 
advantages were few enoiigli and humble 
enough ; the education of females very slight, 
and limited to reading, writing, and the ear- 
lier branches of arithmetic. 

"The interests of schools and of education 
were, thirty years ago, subjects of my thought 
and writing; but the lapse of time and the 
interposition of other objects and new du- 
ties deprive me of the power of aiding your 
researches on these subjects, which are, how- 
ever, easily and far better satisfied by the 
active men of the day. "Wishing .you all 
success ill these wise and noble pursuits, 
" I am, very truly, 

" Your friend and servant, 

"JOSIAH QuiNCV." 

"Boston, Dec. 1st, 18G0." 

The following "Memorandum of an emi- 
nent clergyman, who was educated in the 
best schools of Boston just before the Revo- 
lution," we copy from a volume of the 
" Massachusetts Common School Journal," 
vol. xii., pp. 311, 312. The notes ai'c by 
the editor of the journal, Wm. B. Fowle : 

" At the age of six and a half years, I 
was sent to Master John Lovell's Latin 
school. The only requirement was reading 
well ; but, though fully qualified, I was sent 
away to Master Griffith, a private teacher, 
to learn to rea<l, write and spell. I learned 
the English Grammar in Dilworth's Spelling 
Book by heart. Griffith traced letters with 
a pencil, and the pupils inked them. 

" Entered Lovell's school at seven years. 
Lovell was a tyrant, and his system one of 
terror. Trouncing* was common in the 



* " Trouncing was performed by stripping the boy, 
mounting him on another's back, and wliippmg him 
witli birch rods, before the whole scliool. James 
Lovell, tlie grandson of John, once related to us the 
following anecdote, which shows the utility of cor- 
poral punishment I It seems that a boy had played 
truant, and Master John had publicly declared that 
the offender should be trounced. When such a sen- 
tence was pronounced, it was understood that the 
other boys might seize the criminal and take him 
to scliooi by force. The culprit was soon seized by 
one party, and hurried to the master, who inflicted 
the punishment without delay. On his way home, 
the culprit mot another party, who cried out, ' Ah. 
John Brown.' or whatever his name was, 'you'il 
get it when you go to school!' 'No, I .shan't,' 
said the victorious boy, who felt that he had got the 
start of them, ' No, I shan't, for I've got it,'' and, as 
he said this, ho slapped his liand upon the part that 
had paid the penalty, thus, as the poet says, 'suit- 
ing tlio action to the word.' " 



school. Dr. Cooper was one of his early 
scholars, and he told Dr. Jackson, the min- 
ister of Brookline, that he had dreams of 
school till he died. The boys were so afraid 
they could not study. Sam. Bradford, after- 
ward sheriff, pronounced the P in IHolemy, 
and the younger Lovell rapped him over the 
head with a heavy ferule.* 

" We studied Latin from 8 o'clock till 
11, and from 1 till dark. After one or two 
years, I went to the town school, to Master 
Ilolbrook, at the corner of West street, to 
learn to write ; and to Master Proctor, on 
Pembcrton's Hill, in the south-east part of 
Scollay's Building. My second, third, and 
fourth year, I wrote there, and did nothing 
else. The English boys alone were taught 
to make pens. Griffith was gentle, but his 
being a private teacher accounts for it. 

" The course of study was, gi'ammar ; 
Esop, with a translation ; Clarke's Introduc- 
tion to writing Latin ; Eutropius, with a 
translation ; Corderius ; Ovid's Metamor- 
phoses ; Virgil's Georgics ; ^neid ; Cttsar; 
Cicero. In the sixth year I began Greek, 
and for the first time attempted English 
composition, by translating Ciesar's Com- 
mentaries. The master allowed us to read 
poetical translations, such as Trappe's and 
Dryden's Virgil. I was half way through 
Virgil when I began Greek with Ward's 
Greek Grammar. 

" After Cheever's Latin Accidence, we 
took Ward's Lily's Latin Grammer. After 
the Greek Grammar, we read the Greek 
Testament, and were allowed to use Beza's 
Latin translation. Then came Homer's 
Iliad, five or six books, using Clarke's 
translation with notes, and this was all my 
Greek education at school. Then we took 
Horace, and composed Latin verses, using 
the Gradus ad Parnassum. Daniel Jones 
was the first Latin scholar in 1771 or 1772, 



* " We saw this done by another Boston teacher, 
about thirty years ago, and when we remonstrated 
with him upon the danger of inflicting such a blow, 
upon such a spot, '0, the caitiffs,' said he, 'it is 
good for them 1' About the same time, another 
teacher, who used to strike his pupils upon the 
hand so that the marks and bruises were visible, 
was waited upon by a committee of mothers, who 
lived near the school, and had been annoyed by the 
outcries of tho sufferers. The teacher promised not 
to strike the boys any more on the haml, and the 
women went away satisfied. But, instead of in- 
flicting blows upon the hand, he iuHicted them upon 
tho soles of tho feet, and inado tho punishment more 
severe." 



ACADEMIES, HIGH SCHOOLS, ETC. 



391 



and he was brother to Thomas Kilby Jones, 
who was no scholar, though a distinguished 
ini;rchaiit afterward. 

'• I entered college at the age of fourteen 
years and three months, and was eijual in 
Latin and Greek to the best in the senior 
ohtss. Xenophon and Salliist were the only 
books used in college that I had not stud- 
ied. I went to the private school from 1 1 
to 12 a. m., and to the public from 3 to 5 

p. M. 

" The last two years of my school life, 
nobody taught English Grammar or Geog 
raphy, but Col. Joseph Ward (son of Dea- 
con Joseph Ward, of Newton, West Parish, 
blacksmith,) who was self-taught, and set 
up a school in ]>oston. lie became aid to 
General Ward when the war commenced, 
and did not teach after the war. 

" I never saw a map, except in Cifsar's 
Commentaries, and did not know what that 
meant. Our class studied Lowth's English 
Grammar at colleo-c. At Master Proctor's 
school, reading and writing were taught m 
the same room, to girls and boys, from 7 to 
14 j-ears of age, and the Bible was the only 
reading book. Dilworth's Spelling Book 
was used, and the New England J 'rimer. 
The master set sums in our M8S. but did not 
go farther than the Rule of Three. 

" Master Griffith was a thin man, and 
wore a wig, as did Masters Lovell and 
Proctor, but they wore a cap when not in 
full dress. James Lovell was so beaten by 
his grandfather John, that James the father 
rose and said, ' Sir, you have flogged that 
boy enough.' The boy went oflf determined 
to leave school, and go to Master Proctor's ; 
but he met one of Master Proctor's boys, 
who asked whither he was going, and when 
informed, warned him not to go, for he 
would fare worse." 

Hon. Edward Everett, in an address at the 
Annual School Festival in Faneuil Hall in 
185-2, gives the following account of the 
educational advantages he enjoyed in early 
life : — 

" It was fifty-two years last April since I 
began, at the age of nine years, to attend 
the reading and writing schools in North 
Bennett street. The reading school was 
under Master Little, (for ' Young America' 
had not yet repudiated that title,) and the 
writing school was kept by Master Tileston. 
Master Little, in spite of his name, was a 
giant in stature — six feet four, at least — and 



somewhat wccMcd to the past. He stniijuled 
eai'iiestiy against the change then taking 
place in the proiumciation of m, and insisted 
on saying mnnoomcnt and natur. But I ac- 
quired, under his tuition, what was thought 
in those days a very tolerable knowledge of 
Lindley Murray's abridgment of English 
grammar, and at the end of the year could 
parse almost any sentence in the ' American 
Preceptor.' Master Tileston was a writing 
master of the old school. He set tlie copies 
himself, and taught that beautiful old Boston 
handwriting, which, if I do not mistake, has, 
in the inarch of innovation, (which is not 
ahvays the same thing as improvement,) 
been changed very little for the better. 
Master Tileston was advance<l in years, and 
had found a qualification for his calling as a 
writing master, in what might have seemed 
at first to threaten to be an obstruction. 
The fingers of his right hand had been con- 
tracted and stiftened in early life, by a burn, 
but were fixed in just the position to hold a 
pen and a penknife — and nothing else. As 
they Avere also considerably indurated, they 
served as a convenient instrument of disci- 
pline. A copy badly written, or a blotted 
page, was sometimes visited with an inflic- 
tion which would have done no discredit to 
the beak of a bald eagle. His long, deep 
desk was a perfect curiosity-shop of confis- 
cated balls, tops, penknives, marbles and 
Jews-harps — the accumulation of forty years. 
I desire, however, to speak of him with 
gratitude, for he put me on the track of an 
acquisition which has been extremely useful 
to me in after life — that of a plain, legible 
hand. I remained at these schools about 
sixteen months, and had the good fortune in 
1804 to receive the Franklin medal in the 
English department. After an interval of 
about a year, during which 1 attended a 
private school kept by Mr. Ezekiel Webster, 
of New Hampshire, and on an occasion of 
his absence, by his ever memorable brother, 
Daniel Webster, at that time a student of 
law in Boston, I went to the Latin school, 
then slowly emerging from a state of extreme 
depression. It was kept in School street, 
where the Horticultural Hall now stands,. 
The standard of scholastic attainment was 
certainly not higher than that of material 
comfort in those days. We read pretty 
much the same books — or of the same class 
— in Latin and Greek, as are read now, but 
in a very cursory and superficial manner. 
There was no attieiition paid to the philoso- 



892 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



phy of the lanijuages — to the deduction of 
words from their radical elements — to the 
niceties of construction — still less to prosody. 
I never made a hexameter or pentameter ' 
verse, till, years afterward, I had a son at 
Bchool in London, who occasionally required i 
a little aid in that way. The subsidiary and 
illustrative branches were ■wholly unknown 
in the Latin school in 1805. Such a thing 
as a school library, a book of reference, a 
critical edition of a classic, a map, a black- 
board, an entrraving of an ancient building, [ 
or a copv of a work of ancient art, such as 
now adorn the walls of our schools, was as [ 
little known as the electric telegraph. K 
our children, who possess all these appliances 
and aids to learnmg, do not greatly excel 
their parents, they will be much to blame." 



CnAITER V. 

COLLEGES. 

The colleges of the United States were, at 
the close of the Revolutionary war, seven in 
number. They had been founded with the 
design of providing for the new common- 
wealths the means of a training for the 
young men, substantiallv similar to that af- 
forded by the universities at home.^ Their 
course of study was four years in length, and 
was at first decidedly theological in charac- 
ter, and subseqtientlv more and more secu- 
larized. The average age of those entering 
was somewhat less than now ; and they con- 
ferred, as at present, degrees in arts in course, 
and honorary ones in arts, law, and divinity. 

AVith the growth of the United States they 
have rapidly increased in number, being sup- 
ported, beyond the receipts for tuition, either 
bv endowments raised for each among the de- 
nomination to which it belongs, or by the 
proceeds of state gifts of lands or money. The 
number of this class of institutions incorpo- 
rated with power to confer aca^Jemic honors, 
exceeds two hundred. Tlie length of their 
course of studv remains the same, and in- 
deed this is the case in all their essential 
characteristics. Although there has been a 
gradual elevation of the standard of accpiire- 
ments made requisite for entrance, this pre- 
liminary examination has not been sufH- 
ciently exacting and uniform. As their funds 
and the number of their students have en- 
larged, they have shown a tend«'ncy, not to 
increase the length and completeness of their 



course of study, but rather to multiply the 
number of studies attempted to be taught, 
by adding them to the undergraduate course; 
and in a few instances also to annex special 
schools in one or another department, such 
as law, medicine, theology, and the appli- 
cation of science to industrial oecupations. 

Mr. Everett gives the following picture of 
college life at Harvard as it was fifty } ears 
ago:— 

" But short as the time is since I entered 
college (onlv half as long as that which has 
elapsed since the close of the seven years' 
war), it has made me the witness of wonder- 
ful changes, both materially and intellec- 
tually, in all that concerns our Alma Maler. 
Let me sketch you the outlines of the pic- 
ture, fresh to my mind's eye as the image in 
the cament, which the precincts of the col- 
lege exhibited in 1807. The Common was 
then iminclosed. It was not so much trav- 
ersed by roads in all directions ; it was at 
i>nce all road and no road at all. — a waste 
of mud and of dust, according to the season, 
without grass, trees, or fences. As to the 
streets in those days, the 'Appian ^^ ay' 
existed then as now; and I must allow that 
it bore the same resemblance then as now to 
the Rcgina Viarnm, by which the consuls 
and proconsuls of Rome went forth to the 
conquest of Epirus, Macedonia, and the East. 

" As to public buildings in the neighbor- 
hood of the university, with the exception 
of the Episcopal church, no one of the 
churches now standing was then in exist- 
ence. The old parish church has disap- 
peared, with its square pews, and galleries 
from which you might almost jump into the 
pulpit. It occupied a portion of the space 
between Dane Hall and the old Presidential 
House. I planted a row of elm and oak 
trees a few years ago on the spot where it 
stood, for which, if for nothing else, I hope 
to be kindiv remembered by posteritv. Tlie 
wooden b\iilding now used as a gymnasium, 
and, I believe, for some other purposes, then 
stood where Lyceum Hall now stands. It 
was the county court-house; and there I 
often heard the voice of the venerable Chief 
Justice Parsons. Graduates' Hall did not 
exist ; but on a part of the site, and behind 
the beautiful linden trees still flourishing, 
was an old black wooden house, the residence 
of the professor of mathematics. A little fur- 
ther to the north, and just at the coiner of 
! Church street, which was not then opened, 
1 stood Avhat was dignified in the annual col- 




FOi,.-»Di.>u OF jjAitijiOLTii ^Oi.Lr,.^L. l.S 



l.„9. L..^.Ji.d ... lb"9 



PROFESSIONAL SCHOOLS, ETC. 



393 



lege catalogue (which was printed on one 
side of a sheet of paper, and was a novelty) 
as * The College House.' The cellar is 
still visible. By the students this edifice 
was disrespectfully called ' Wiswall's Den,' 
or, for brevity, ' the Den.' I lived in it in 
my freshman year. Whence the name of 
' Wiswall's Den' was derived, I hardly dare 
say ; there was something worse than ' old 
f-»gy' about it. There was a dismal tradi- 
tion that, at some former period, it had been 
the scene of a murder. A brutal husband 
had dragged his wife by the hair up and 
down the stairs, and then killed her. On 
the anniversary of the murder — and what day 
that was no one knew — there were sights.ind 
sounds — flitting garments draggled in blooo, 
plaintive screams, stridor frri tradceqne 
eatrnce — enough to appall the stoutest sopho- 
more. But, for myself, I can truly say, that 
I got throufjh mv freshman year without 
having seen the ghost of Mr. Wiswall or his 
lamented lady. I was not, however, sorry 
when the tsvelvemonth was up, and I was 
transferred to the light, airy, well- ventilated 
room, \o. 20 llollis; being the inner room, 
ground-floor, north entry of that ancient and 
respectable edifice." 

The tables on pjiges 451-3 exhibit the num- 
ber, date of foundation, and statistics of our 
American colleges in several important par- 
ticulars. 



clergyman, lawyer, or physician, acting as 
his assistant and receiving his instructions. 
Then, when they considered themselves fit, 
or an invitation came, they took tlieir place 
in the ranks of their profession. (Iradually 
the necessity of special opportunities of in- 
struction in the principles, and their diverse 
and complicated applications, led to the es- 
tablishment of schools of theology, medicine, 
and law ; and still later, of special courses 
of instruction, and finally, of special schools 
for the practical chemist, geologist, civil and 
military engineer, agriculturist and teacher. 
This department of education is not yet 
aided systematically in any state, and is hard- 
ly recognized by a majority of tlie states in 
their systems of public instruction. Most 
of this class of institutions have been estab- 
lished by denominational or professional as- 
sociations, or by the liberality of iiulividuals 
in advance of or as the inducement to legis- 
lative aid. 



CHAPTER VI. 

PROFESSIONAL, SCIENTIFIC, AND SPECIAL 
SCHOOLS. 

As the body of human knowledge in- 
creased in extent, and filled out in detail, it 
subdivided by a natural process into a great- 
er and greater number of sciences, as did 
the industrial side of life into a greater and 
greater number of employments. A sub- 
division and increase in the number of 
schools, preparatory to the business of life, 
naturally accompanied this process. 

The colleges of the United States, accord- 
ing to this law of development, were in their 
early day' designed primarily to train future 
clergymen, and secondarily to train those in- 
tending to enter the public service. For a 
long time college graduates had no means of 
enjoying further instruction in cither of the 
then recognized learned professions, but by 
residing near or in the family of some eminent 



CHAPTER VII. 

THEOLOOICAL SCHOOLS. 

The future clergyman, in the American 

colonies, had already studied theology in his 
college course. It was probably common for 
graduates to serve what may be well enough 
termed an apprenticeship under some emi- 
nent clergyman, after leaving college. 1 >uring 
the first half of the eighteenth century, the 
custom grew up of subjecting the candidate 
for the ministry to examination by a number 
of ministers, and licensing him to preach as 
candidate. Dr. Bellamy first introduced at 
his house at Bethlem, Connecticut, the plan 
of giving something like a regular course of 
instruction to students in theology. A little 
later the practice became quite general, 
and was confirmed by the gradual elimina- 
tion of its theological character from the 
course of study in the colleges. 

The first separate theological school in the 
United States was that at Andover, founded 
and opened in 1807. The thorough three 
years' course of study here established soon 
did away with the comparatively ineflicient 
and superficial apprenticeship scheme, which 
aftbrded a professional training of twelve, six, 
or even only three months. 

Of previous departmental or imi>erfcct 
provisions for specific ministerial training, 
should be mentioned the academy known as 
" Log College," of Rev. William Tennent, at 



394 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



NcsliaiTiiny, I'ucks county, Pa., opened about 
172n ; the preparatory school opened by Rev. 
John Smith in the west of Pennsylvania in 
1778, afterward under Rev. J. Anderson, 
D. D. ; William and Mary Collerre, which 
included a professorship of divinity in 1693 ; 
the foundation of the Ilollis professorship of 
divinity at Harvard College in 17-_M ; and 
that of the Livingston professorship of di- 
vinity at Yale College in 1746. 

The table, altered into chronological succes- 
sion from the American Almanac, 1 861, gives 
the growth of this class of special schools. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

LAW SCHOOLS. 

The professional education of colonial law- 
yers was equally unscientific, with the excep- 
tion of the few Avho obtained a legal educa- 
tion at the Middle or Inner Temple in Lon- 
don, those inns of court being the favorite 
resorts of American students. Law, indeed, 
was then scarcely considered a liberal science 
in this country, and the profession was in 
more than one instance discouraged or actu- 
ally forbidden by colonial constitutions or 
laws. Thus, in 1660, Virginia, by her house 
of burgesses, voted for " the total ejection 
of mercenary attorneys ;" Massachusetts, in 
1663, prohibited "usual and common attor- 
neys in any inferior court," from being mem- 
bei's of the legislature; and Locke's consti- 
tution for Carolina permitted " no one to 
plead another man's cause." The only pro- 
fessional training between the college course 
and actual practice was in the office of some 
practitioner already established, where the 
aspirant served for an in<lefinite period as 
an attorney's clerk, usually learning to draw 
instruments, and obtaining a desultory knowl- 
edge of forms, technics and special pleading, 
but very seldom pursuing any regulated 
course of study or systematically mastering 
his subject. 

The first separate institution for legal in- 
struction was the celebrated law school at 
Litchfield, Connecticut, established by Judge 
Reeve in 17k4, taught by him alone until 
1798, then together with Judge Gould until 
a little before Judge Reeve's death in 18j3, 
and afterward by Judge Gould alone until 
1827. Seven hundred and fifty students in 
all studied law in this school ; who, scattered 
over the whole country, carried with them 



and instilled into the profession at large the 
idea of a special and systematic training for 
the practice of law. 

We append a table, altered from the 
American Almanac for 1861, of the existing 
law schools or collegiate departments in the 
United States, in the order of their founda- 
tion. It should, however, be observed that 
some legal studies were included in the orig- 
inal sclieme of William and Mary College, 
founded 1693, and the law course became 
of some positive value by improvements 
about 1730. Also, that a law professorship 
was founded in the College of Philadelphia 
in 1790; a professor of law ap]ininted at 
Yale College hi 1801; and the Royall Pro- 
fessorship of Law at Harvard, founded iu 
1815. 



CHAPTER IX. 

MEDICAL SCHOOLS. 

Medical schools, are of quite recent date ; 
and the training of the young physician was 
of a very irregular character during the 
colonial period. Degrees of Doctor of Medi- 
cine were possessed by a very few practising 
physicians, who had studied at Edinburgh, 
Leyden, or other European schools. The 
few eminent physicians who were trained 
exclusively in the colonies, were to a great 
extent followers of a natural gift and ten- 
dency, wdiicli went far to supply their lack 
of school learning. Young men pI■opo^ing 
to become physicians, practised in th^ offi- 
ces and under the instruction of established 
physicians. Down to the middle of the 1 8th 
century, it was the frequent practice, in Con- 
necticut, at least, to obtain a formal license 
from the general court, which was commonly 
o-ranted on petition of the aspirant, reinforced 
by testimonials from the freemen of his town, 
the town officers, or practising physicians. 
Sometimes the only credentials of the begin- 
ner, were the certificate of the physician with 
whom he had studied. After college courses 
of medical lectures were established, a license 
from the faculty was given, which served in- 
stead of the subsequent diploma. 

The earliest collegiate medical department 
in the United States was that of the Univer- 
sity of Prnnsylvania in 1765. Dr. Shippeu 
had lectured on anatomy in 1762. 

We add a chronological table, altered from 
the American Almanac for 1 861, of the medi- 
cal schools of the United States. 



MILITARY AND NAVAL SCHOOLS. 



395 



CHAPTER X. 

MILITARY AND NAVAL SCHOOLS. 

The experience of the Revolutionary war 
occasionctl a very general conviction anions; 
the officers of the American army, of the 
necessity for sncli a provision for the military 
education of native officers as would relieve 
the United States from a dependence upon 
professionally trained soldiers of foreign 
birtli. The idea of a military school of 
some kind, to be connected with each United 
States arsenal, was entertained at the close 
of the war among the officers. 

In the spring of 1783, General Washing- 
ton requested from a number of leading otii- 
cers, statements of their views on all subjects 
connected with the peace establishment of 
the United States army. In reply to this 
request, Colonel Timothy rickering, then 
quartermaster-general, drew up an able and 
interesting memoir, which contains, it is be- 
lieved, the first suo'gestion of a single central 
government military academy, and he also 
suggested West Point as a proper location 
for it. 

President Washington's annual address to 
Congress of December 3, 1793, asks "wheth- 
er a material feature in the improvement of a 
system of national defence ought not to be 
to afford an opportunity for the study of 
those branches of the military art, which can 
scarcely ever be attained by practice alone." 

An act of Congress of May 9, 1794-, au- 
thorized a corps of four battalions of artil- 
lerists and engineers, to each of which were 
to be attached eight cadets. This was the 
first introduction into the military service of 
the United States of this term, which may 
be defiiKnl to signify a grade of officers be- 
tween the highest non-commissioned officer, 
a sergeant, and the lowest commissioned one, 
an ensign. For the use of this corps and 
cadets, the secretary of war, Colonel Picker- 
ing, was authorized to procure the necessary 
books and apparatus. The secretary, in 
1796, reports that this organization is im- 
portant, and should be as stationary as prac- 
ticable, with a view to instruction. 

President Washington's last annual speech 
to Congress, December, 179(), again urged 
strongly the esta!)lishment of a military 
academy. In April, 179S, the corps of artil- 
lerists and engineers was increased by an 
* additional regiment, and the number of 
cadets eidarged to fifty-six. In July follow- 
ing, four teachers were by Congress author- 



ized to be employed in that regiment for in- 
struction in science and art. Some ofticers 
and men were collected at West Point, and 
a sort of military school opened, which, how- 
ever, acted with little efficiency, owing to 
the want of preparatory training, and of or- 
ganization. 

Secretary of War McIIenry, in a report on 
the organization of the army, made duiing 
the expectation of a war with France, dated 
December 24, 1798, lamented the want of 
engineers and artillerists trainee! at home. 
In January, 1800, the same officer laid be- 
fore the President, who transmitted it to 
Congress, a plan for establishing a military 
academy. After referring to the imperfect 
steps already taken in this direction, he pro- 
ceeds to suggest that the proposed academy 
shall consist of a " fundamental school," to 
instruct in such departments of science as 
are necessary in common in all the arms of 
the military force ; and three .special schools, 
one of engineers and artillerists, one of 
cavalry and infantry, and one of the navy. 
The institution was to be in charge of a direc- 
tor-general, four directors, twelve professors, 
and nine other instructors. This school, so 
far as Secretary McIIenry recommended its 
immediate establishment, was to accommo- 
date annual classes of one hundred pupils 
each, for courses of four and five years. 

The Military Acailemy at A\'est Point, ac- 
cording to Colonel Williams' report in 1^08, 
was first opened in 1801, as a "mathemati- 
cal school for the few cadets that were then 
in service," and under a private citizen. In 
1802, an act of Congress separated the artil- 
lerists and engineers, distrilmting the cadets 
of the former class among the twenty com- 
panies of that arm, and constituted the en- 
gineers the Military Academy, making it 
consist of seven officers and ten cadets. 

The operations of the school continued to 
be deficient in order and efficiency for some 
years, still for want of proper and energetic 
administration, and a well adjusted course 
of study. In 1812, it was much enlarged, 
and its organization quite changed. The 
period from 1817 to 18-_'4, however, during 
which a tlit)rough course of theoretical and 
prac'tical studies, properly adapted to the 
military profession, was for the lirst time in- 
troduced, marks the establishment of the 
academy as a military and scientific school 
of high grade and value. 

The academy, in 18()0, was organized under 
a superintendent, who is commandant ut the 



396 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



post, and a corps of forty-six instructors and 
officers. Its course of study is of five years, 
and is intended to train the pupils in military 
science and art as applicable to all arms of 
the service. The number of pupils is by 
law fixed at one from each congressional and 
territorial representative district, together 
with ten appointed at large ; being at pres- 
ent a total limit of 252. 

OTHER MILITARY SCHOOLS. 

In 1839, the state of Virginia established 
in connection with Washington College, at 
Lexington, Va., the " Virginia Military In- 
stitute,'' intended to instruct young men in 
tactics and civil engineering. There were in 
1858 eleven instructors. The pupils are 
divided into state cadets and pay cadets ; 
the latter class paying their expenses, and 
the former supported out of a state appio- 
priation of $600 ) a year, and an additional 
sum of $1,500 from the literary fund. 

Two similar schools were established by 
South Carolina in 1842 — the Arsenal Acad- 
emy at Columbia, and the Citadel Academy 
at Charleston. These contemplate a similar 
course, and arc aided by a state appropria- 
tion, which was in 1859 $30,000. A mili- 
tary academy at Lexington, Kentucky, is aid- 
ed by the state, and is under a board of nine 
members, appointed by the state. Louisiana 
has a military school of the same character. 
These institutions have been found well adapt- 
ed to the character of southern pupils, and 
are flourishing and useful. 

Of the various private schools which have 
or have had an infusion of the military ele- 
ment, one of the most prominent was that 
of Captain Alden Partridge. Captain Pait- 
ridge was a native of Norwich, Vt., where 
he died, aged 70, in 1854. lie was a mili- 
tary instructor during nearly fifty years, be- 
ing principal of the West Point Academy 
from 1812 to 1816; and afterward conduct- 
ing a private military school, successively at 
Norwich, ^'t., Middletown, Ct., Portsmouth. 
Va., and r)randywine Springs, Del., nearly 
or cpiite down to the time of his death. 

A number of private schools and other 
institutions in various parts of the country 
have adopted more or less of a military or- 
ganization, as a means of securing physical 
exercise, amusement, and mental and moral 
discipline. A military drill, for instance, is 
part of the regular exercises of the Univer- 
sity of Nashville, Tennessee ; and the pupils 
of the well-known school of I*rofessor Wil- 



liam Russell, of New Haven, Connecticut, are 
regularly afld thoroughly drilled as an in- 
fantry company. 



THE NAVAL ACADEMY, 



The Naval Academy at Annapolis, Mary- 
land (in 1861 removed to Newport, R. I.), 
was founded in October, 1845, by the ef- 
forts of the Hon. George Bancroft, then sec- 
retary of the navy. AH the efforts which 
had previously been made on board of our 
national cruisers, in the navy yards of Bos- 
ton, New York, and Norfolk, and in the 
Naval Asylum of Philadelphia, were found 
to be insufficient for the proper training and 
education of midshipmen. 

During the infancy of the academy, sever- 
al plans of an experimental character were 
tried, which led gradually to the adoption of 
the admirable system of education now in 
operation. Midshipmen who had made a 
cruise at sea, were first sent to the academy, 
for a term of nine months, to prepare for 
their final examination, which practice was 
continued until 1847. In that year, a board 
of officers recommended a course of four 
years at the academy — viz., two years before 
and two years after a cruise at sea. This 
plan went into operation, but it was soon 
abandoned, owing to the constant demand at 
sea for midshipmen during the Mexican w-ar, 
and it was not until 1851 that the present 
uninterrupted course of four years at the 
academy was inaugurated. 

Candidates for the Naval Academy are ap- 
pointed upon the recommendation of mem- 
bers of Congress, and each state and territory 
is entitled to a number of appointments cor- 
responding with its congressional represent- 
atives. Candidates are admitted between 
the 20th of September and the 1st of Octo- 
ber of each year, and, if successful in the 
preliminary examination, are permitted to 
assume the naval uniform, and, in the capa- 
city of acting midshipmen, begin their career 
on the school ship " Constitution." This 
noble ojd frigate, lately become an adjunct to 
the Naval Academy, is the home of the fourth 
class, during the first year of the course. 

The entire corps of acting midshipmen 
now at the Naval Academy is about two 
hundred strong, and is divided into four 
classes, three of which occupy the quarters 
on shore. During the summer vacation, two 
of the classes are drafted on board the prac- 
tice-ship to make a cruise in the Atlantic 
Ocean, and they return well versed in the 



NOUMAL SCHOOLS, ETC. 



397 



duties of an ofBcer and a sailor, and in the 
ri<^gin<r and evolutions of a ship. During 
the course of four years they are subjected 
to eight severe cxaniinatioiis, and, if success- 
ful in all, they receive ;v iuidshi}>nian's war- 
rant ; then they go to sea for two years, and 
return once more to the academy for their 
final exaiulnalion. Thus, the term of a mid- 
shipman's apprenticeship is six years, at. the 
expiration of which he receives the warrant 
of a passe-l-midshipman, and is then left to 
carve out his own destiny. 

The academy is governed by a captain in 
the navv, assisted by an executive officer and 
several lieutenants, who are charged with 
the discipline of the establishment and the 
instruction of the midshipmen in strictly 
professional branches. Tiie other depart- 
ments of instruction are intrusted to coiu- 
petent professors, and the academy is sup- 
plied with a valuable library and scientific 
apparatus, whicli aid materially in the cJnca- 
tion of the " future hope of the navy." 



CHAPTER XL 

NORMAL SCHOOLS AND OTHER INSTITU- 
TIONS AND AGEMCIES FOR THE PROFES- 
SIONAL TRAINING OF TEACHERS. 

Teaching was not recognized as a science 
or an art in this country until long after what 
are termed par excellence the learned profes- 
sions. Indeed, it is not by any means yet 
admitted to its proper dignity as such ; and 
of special schools of preparation for it, only 
one can date back more than about forty 
years, viz., Mr. Hall's, established in 1823. 

During the colonial period of the United 
States, and indeed until within cotcmporary 
inenior\', teachers were expected to be sup- 
plied for many of the more advanced village 
or district schools, from educational institu- 
tions of the higher grades, mainly from the 
colleges, many of whose students were in the 
habit of teaching during the winter term. 
The remaining public schools, in the country 
at least, were commonly kept by persons who 
had received no other education than the 
same class of schools had furnished. 

The principal agencies introduced in mod- 
ern times for the professional training of 
teachers, setting apart the actual incidental 
practice already mentiimed, by college stu- 
dents and graduates of district schools, and 
also systematized books on the theory and 
24 * 



practice of education,* may be enumerated as 
1. Teachers' Associations ; 2. Educational 
Periodicals; 3, Normal Schools ; 4. Teach- 
ers' Institutes ; which agencies respcrtivcl}'- 
first commenced their operations within the 
United States, in the order named ; the two 
latter, however, in the same year, with an in- 
terval of only about four months. 

Of Teachers' Associations for profcssionaf 
improvement, the earliest in this country, so 
far as is known, was the "Middlesex County 
Association for the Improvement of Common 
Schools," formed at Middletown, Connecti- 
cut, in 1799. The ''Incorporated Society 
of Teachers," in the city of New Y<M-k, of 
which Albert Picket was president, and John 
W. Picket, his brother, corresponding secre- 
tary, was incorp(.) rated in 1811. Tlie Essex 
County (Mass.) Teachers' Association was 
established in August, 1830, by teachers 
from that county, with a constitution and 
officers. It is still in existence, and has 
maintained its scries of semi-annual meetings 
and of lectures unbroken to the present time. 
The Western College of Teachers, a use- 
ful and influential body, was formed in 1831, 
by the influence of the brothers Picket, 
Samuel Lewis, and other early friends oi 
education in Ohio and the West. 

Far the most prominent and influential, 
however, of all the existing educational as- 
sociations in the country, is the American 
Institute of Instruction. The formation of 
this body was the ultimate result of a move- 
ment which commenced by a meeting of 
teachers and friends of education at P>f)ston, 
March 15th to 18th, 1830. This meeting 
debated and resolved upon a "permanent as- 



* The followiiip: is a list of some of the earlier 
American publications on the principles and methods 
of education: — 

Aisison, J. The Teacher. 

Alcoi'T, W a. History of First DiMricl School of 
Hartford. Word to Primary School Teachers. Confes- 
sions of a Schoolmaster. Slate and Blackboard Exer- 
cises. 

Beecuer, Miss C. E. Suggestions on Ftmak 
Education. 

Burton, W. TIic District School as it Was. 

Davis, E. Manual for Teacliers. 

Emerson, G. 13. The Schoolmaster. 

Griscom, J. Monitorial Instruction. 

Half^ S. Lectures on School Keeping. Lectures 
to Female Teachers. 

Page, D. P. Theory and Practice of Teaching. 

Palmer, T H. Prde Essay on Teaching. 

Potter, A. The School. 

Russell, W. Suggestions on Education. Mamuii 
of Mutual Instruction. 



398 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



sociation of persons engaijcd and interested 
in the business of instruction ;" and, in pur- 
suance of its votes, an adjourned meetini]:; 
was held at Boston in August following, at 
v'hich its constitution and name were adopt- 
ed, and its first course of lectures delivered. 
It was incorporated in 1831 by the legislature 
of Massachusetts, and has received an annual 
grant from that state. Its series of annual 
meetings is still continued, and its accom- 
panying series of annual volumes of lectures 
has now reached the .31st, and includes a 
valuable mass of useful theoretical and 
practical discussions. 

During the period of educational interest 
which produced the American Institute of 
Instruction, many conventions and meetings 
of teachers and friends of education assem- 
bled in different parts of the country, to con- 
sult and debate upon means of improvement 
for schools and teachers. Among the more 
earnest and efficient of these may be named 
the Windham County (Conn.) Convention, 
which met in 1826; the Hartford Society 
for the Improvement of Common Schools, 
formed in 1827, and among whose members 
were Messrs. Hooker, Gallaudet,W. C. Wood- 
bridge, and others ; the Pennsylvania Society 
for the Promotion of Public Schools, formed 
in 1828 ; and the Convention of the Teach- 
ers of New York, which met at Utica in 
1832. These bodies frequently possessed 
scarcely more than an annual existence, meet- 
ing from year to year in pursuance of a new 
call. Their efforts, however, and the evident 
capacities of such organizations for useful- 
ness, led directly to the subsequent forma- 
tion of that class of educational societies 
known as " State Teachers' Associations." 
Of these, the Massachusetts State Teachers' 
Association, and the Hhode Island Institute 
of Instruction, were organized in 1845 ; the 
Ohio State Teachers' Association in 1847 ; 
and others have followed, until at present 
there are no less than twenty-seven State 
Teachers' Associations, some of them acting 
with remarkable efliciency for the profession- 
al imj)rovement of teachers. In connection 
with these state bodies, county associations 
exist in several states, some of them enjoying 
state aid, and many of them useful co-laborers 
in the educational field with the state asso- 
ciations with which they are afiiliated. 

The first proposition in this country for a 
periodical to be devoted to education was 
made by Rev. Samuel Bacon, a native of 
Stsarbridgc, Massachusetts, who, in 1812, is- 



sued the prospectus of a periodical, to be 
known as The Academical tlvrald and Jour- 
nal of Education. Mr. Bacon subsequent- 
ly resumed this idea, but gave it up again 
upon the appearance of the first actual 
American educational periodical, The Aca- 
demician. This was a large octavo, issued 
semi-monthly, at New York, during the years 
1818-19, and edited by Albert Picket and 
John W, Picket, afterward the well known 
early influential members of the "Western 
College of Teachers." 

This field of labor now remained unoccu- 
pied until the appearance of the Amn-icon 
Jo iriial <yf Edacaiioii, commenced January 
1st, 1825, at Boston, Mr. T. B. Wait publish- 
er, and edited by Professor William Russell. 
With its continuation, the Amcriran Annals 
of Education, this Avell-known and valuable 
journal appeared until the end of 1839, 
completing an entire series of fourteen oc- 
tavo volumes. 

In January, 183C, appeared the first num- 
ber of the Common School Assistant, a 
quarto monthly, edited by J. Orville Taylor, 
and which was published at Albany, and 
afterward at New York, during four years 
and four volumes, and part of a fifth, ending 
in 1840. This periodical was energetically 
and usefully edited, was taken and read 
throughout the country, and did a good 
work in its day and generation for the cause 
of common schools. 

Mr. Taylor also did much for the cause of 
education by publishing a Common School 
Almniiac, awA by delivering forcible and apt 
addresses on educational subjects in many 
states of the Union. 

In August, 1838, appeared at Hartford, 
Connecticut, the first number of the quarto 
Connecticut Common School Journal, edit- 
ed by Henry Barnard, Secretary of the 
Board of Commissioners of Common Schools. 
This periodical was published during four 
years, ending in consequence of the strange 
reactionary rally which abolished the board 
in 1842. It contained the state public edu- 
cational documents of its day, beside a great 
quantity of valuable selections and original 
articles. A second scries in octavo form was 
commenced by Mr. Barnard in 185U, cover- 
ing substantially the same ground, and con- 
tiiuied by him until January, 1854, when he 
suirendered its care to the ('onnecticut State 
Teachers' Association, which still publishes 
it. The interval between 184 3 and 1850 
was covered by the publication of the Jour- 



NORMAL SCHOOLS, ETC. 



399 



nal of the Rhode Island Institute of Instruc- 
tion^ cinixxlyitiji; the oflicial doeuincTits ;uiJ 
action of Mr. 1 laniard in that state as coni- 
inissioner of public achools. 

Ill AiiLjust, 1855, Mr. Barnard issued the 
first number of liis American Journal of 
A'dncation, published at Hartford, (iuarterl\-, 
in octavo. The plan contemplated a series 
of at least ten volumes, of about 800 pai^'cs, 
to constitute an encyclopa'dia of educational 
materials of permanent value, illustrative of 
the history, biography, theory, and practice 
of all departments of education, both in this 
country and in other parts of the worhl, as 
Avoll as a record of coteinporary educational 
facts and progress. In the ])rogress of this 
jilan hitherto, the ten volumes already com- 
})leted have included over 3 (0 cuts on school 
archite -ture, more than forty singularly fine 
portraits of eminent American teachers and 
educators, a still larger number of memoirs, 
and over 16uO pages on the comparatively 
new and most important department of 
methodology. 

The earliest suggestion of institutional 
provision for the specific professional train- 
ing of teachers seems to have been that of 
Elisha Ticknor, in an article in the Massachu- 
setts Magazine for June, 1789, for county 
schools under able masters, to teach English 
grammar, Latin, Greek, rhetoric, geography, 
luathcmatics, etc., " in order to fit young- 
gent lemen for college and school keeping." 

The first proposition for a separate and 
exclusive teachers' seminary was, however, 
set forth by the late Professor Denison Olm- 
sted, in an oration at receiving liis master's 
degree, at commencement, 1816, on the 
" State of Education in Connecticut." This 
was to l>e a state institution, to train teachers 
for the state public schools. Professor Olm- 
sted's prosecution of his plan was prevented 
by his accepting a pro-essorship in North 
Carolina. 

Seven years afterward, in March, 1823, 
Rev. Samuel Read Hall opened at Concord, 
Vermont, the first teachers' seminary in the 
X'nitcd States; an unpretending little school, 
planned in consequence of his own observa 
lions uj)on the wants of teachers, intended 
f')rthe improvement of teachers in and near 
Ids own town, and including a model class 
of juvenile pupils. 

During the years 1824-5, Messrs. Thomas 
n.Galhuidet of Hartford, Connecticut; .James 
G. Carter of Lancaster, Massachusetts; and 
Walter R. Johnson of Gcrmantown, Penn- 



sylvania, issued various pamphlets and news- 
paper articles, ably urging the necessity, 
pra'-ticability, and advantages of institutions 
for the professional training of teachers. 

In February, 1826, a committee was ap- 
pointed by the legislature of Massachusetts 
to report a plan for an institution to instruct 
in practical arts and sciences. This com- 
mittee included in the plan recommended by 
them a department for the professional train- 
ing of teachers. This scheme was not, how- 
ever, carried into operation. 

In the next year, 1827, Governor Clinton 
reconunonded to the legislature of the state 
of New York the establishment of a normal 
school, and an act was passed for that pur- 
pose. It was, however, strongly opposed by 
Hon. John C. Spencer, who succeeded in 
preventing it from going into operation, and 
in causing the adoption instead of the plan 
of teachers' departments in academies. 

The earliest instance of a teachers' insti- 
tute in this country, though not then so 
named, was the experimental one gathered 
at Hartford, Connecticut, in October, 1839, 
by the means and at the expense of the then 
superintendent of common schools in Con- 
necticut, in order to prove the practicability 
and usefulness of the plan. The result was 
entirely satisfactory. A similar class, or 
'■ temporary normal school," was successful- 
ly conducted during eight weeks by Mr. 
Stephen R. Sweet, at Kingsboro, Fulton 
county. New York, commencing on the 6th 
of September, 1 842. J. vS. Denman, Esq., 
school superintendent of Tompkins county, 
New York, urged a similar class upon the 
attention of the Tompkins County Teachers' 
Association in October, 1842, and a teach- 
ers' institute, supposed by him to be the 
first in the state and in the world— and prob- 
ably the first expressly so called — was open- 
ed under his direction in that county in 
April, 1843, and profitably conducted during 
two weeks. 

Institutes were held in many places in 
New Yoi'k during the following five years, 
under the auspices of school oflicers and 
teachers ; and at the end of that time, in 
November, 1847, an act of the legislature 
made them part of the legal school sys- 
tem, and provided a trifling annual appro- 
priation to aid in holding them in each 
county. 

Under the influence of earnest efforts by 
teachers and educators during 1846, the 
legislature of Connecticut, in May, 1847, 



400 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



made an appropriation which enabled the 
superintendent, J I on. S. P. Beers, to provide 
for the holding of institutes in each county 
of the state in the following autumn ; and 
they have since formed part of \]ie state sys- 
tem for training teacliers. 

Institutes weie introduced into Massachu- 
setts in the autumn of 1846, as part of the 
comprehensive school reform which spread 
through that state under Horace Mann's 
secretaryship of the Board of Education. 
Those of 1846 were held in consequence of 
Hon. Edmund I) wight's gift of $UjOO for 
the purpose. In the next year the legisla- 
ture appropriated a sum to continue the 
plan, and they were thus incorporated into 
the public school system of the state of 
Massachusetts. 

The economy and efficiency of this agency 
in training teachers were so great and mani- 
fest, that they quickly spread into the other 
eastern states, and into many of the middle 
and western ones ; and at present may be 
considered a fixed feature of the American 
system of special training for teachers. In 
1859, it was estimated that upward of 
20,000 teachers were assembled under this 
plan of organization for instruction in their 
professional duties. 



CHAPTER XII. 

SCHOOLS OF S'^IE.VCK FOR ENGINEERS, 
GEOLOGISTS, ETC. 

For many years the government school 
for training army officers, founded in 1802, 
and known as the United States Military 
Academy at West Point, stood alone as a 
seminary for advanced education, in wliich 
classical instruction yielded its pre-eminence 
to mathematical and scientific culture. In 
1824, the Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute 
was founded at Troy, N Y., and furnisbed 
civilians with the means of education in 
some measure corresponding to but yet much 
lower than the military school at West Point. 
More than twenty years afterward, in 1 84G, 
the corj)oration of Yale College establislied 
two professorships, which soon formed the 
nucleus of the Yale Scientific School ; and 
about the same time a gift of $50,000, sub- 
sequently increased to double that amount, 
by Abbott Lawrence, enabled the corpora 
tion of Harvard University to establish in 
1847 the Lawrence Scieutific School. With- 



in a short time Dartmouth College was en- 
abled to go forward in the sanje direction, by 
a bequest of 850,(»00 received from Abiel 
Chandler, at liis decease in 1851, endowing 
the Chandler Scientific School. As the.-e 
three institutions naturally form a group by 
themselves, providing instructiim of an ad- 
vanced character in seveial diiferent branches 
of science, a brief sketch will be given of 
each one ; but there are a variety of less ad- 
vanced schools, and of schools devoted to a 
single practical object, like the agricultural 
schools at Lansing, Mich., and Ovid, N. Y , 
which will be noticed under their aj)propri- 
ate head. 

In August, 1846, the corporation of Yale 
College CvStablished two professorships, one 
of agricultural chemistry, the other of chem- 
istry applied to the arts ; to the first of which 
was appointed John I'itkin Norton ; to the 
latter Benjamin Silliman, Jr. At the same 
time a committee was appointed to consider 
the expediency of forming a " Department 
of Philosophy and the Arts" in connection 
with the university. In August, 1847, this 
committee reported that it was expedient to 
form such a department, for the instruction 
of other than undergraduate students. Ac- 
cordingly, the department was organized for 
the purpose of providing instruction in philos- 
ophy, philology, history and natural science, 
etc. The branches of chemistry and engi- 
neering were embraced in one section, under 
the title of the Yale Scientific Scliool. The 
professors, before appointed, entered on their 
duties in the autuiim of 1847. In 185'J, the 
corporation established in this department 
the degree of Bachelor of Philosophy, to be 
conferred after a two years' connection with 
the school, and a satisfactory examination in 
at least three branches of study. In Septem- 
ber, 1 852, the school suffered a severe loss in 
the death of its devoted friend, l^rofessor J. 
P. Norton, who bequeathed to it his collec- 
tion of books and apparatus. New professor- 
ships have from time to time been establish- 
ed, and additional instructors appointed, but 
the school lias lacked until 1800 sufiicient 
accommodations and the pecuniary means 
necessary for expansion. By the liberality 
of Joseph E. Sheffield, Esq., of New Haven, it 
is now provided with a spacious building, 
especially adapted to its purposes, and a 
fund of $100,000 for sustaining its courses 
of instruction. To the latter fund other gen- 
tlemen have contributed. This building 
(first opened in September, 1860) contains, 



SCIENTIFIC SCHOOLS. 



401 



besides the usual lecture rooms, extensive 
aiiiil^tical aiul inetullur<i;ical laboratories, and 
halls for .tt^ricultural and teclinolou;ieal imisc- 
unis. Opportuuitv is afFortled in the seliool 
for pursuinj:; a general scientific course, ex- 
tending through three years, or special 
courses in physics, chemistry, industrial me- 
chanics, and engineering, wliich oceup)- two 
years each. 

The degree of Bachelor of Philosophy is 
ni>\v conferred on those who have com{)Ieted 
either the general course or one of the spe- 
cial courses in the scientific school, and have 
passed a satisfactory examination. The de- 
gree of Civil Engineer is conferred on thos'' 
who have completed, besides the special 
course in engineering, a higher course of one 
year. It is also proposed to confer a higher 
degree, that of Doctor of Philosophy, on 
those who in their residence and their schol- 
arship conform to the requirements of the 
department. In February, ISGO, a course 
of agricultural lectures was given under the 
patronage of the school. The faculty of the 
school now consists of the president of the 
college, a professor of civil engineering, a 
professor of natural history, a professor of 
general and applied chemistry, a professor 
of industrial mechanics and physics, a pro- 
fessor of organic chemistry, a professor of 
modern languages, a professor of metallurgy, 
and a professor of analytical and agricultural 
chemistry, besides certain assistants. 

In 1S46, the project of a Scientific School, 
to be connected with Harvard University, 
was first publicly announced, and the plans 
laid before Hon. Abbott Lawrence of Bos- 
ton, a distinguished merchant of wealth and 
public spirit. In June, 1847, he oftered to 
the college the munificent sum of $50,- 
000, " for the purpose of teaching the prac- 
tical sciences." This gift was to be ap- 
plied for the erection of suitable buildings, 
and the purchase of apparatus, the residue 
to form a fund for the support of profes- 
sors. 

On this foundation the school was com- 
menced the same year; Professor llorsford, 
already connected with the university, filling 
the chair of chemistry ; Professor Agassiz, 
of Switzerland, being called to that of zoology 
and geology, and Lieut. Eustis, of the army, 
to that of engineering. In 1849, a labora- 
tory, then unsurpassed even in Europe in its 
conveniences for practical instruction, was 
erected and furnished ; and in 1850 a build- 
ing was constructed for the temporary accom- 



modation of the dcipartments of zoology, 
geology, and engineering. Besides the pro- 
fessors already mentioned, instruction is given 
by the college professors in mathematics, 
physics, botany, comparative anatomy and 
physiology, and mineralogy. The school is 
essentially a combination of independent de- 
partments, each having exclusive control of 
its own internal arrangements, and sustain- 
ing a complete cour.se of instruction for it- 
self. At the death of Mr. Lawrence, August 
18, 1855, the school received by bequest, as 
a second gift, the sum of $50,000, to increase 
its facilities for instruction and research. 
Connection with the school for at least a- 
single year, in attendance on the prescribed 
(course of .studies, in one or more depart- 
ments, and a satisfactory public examination, 
are essential to taking the dei^ree of Bachelor 
ot Science. 

An estate valued at $350,000 was be- 
queathed to Harvard College in 1842 by 
Mr. Benjamin Ilussey, of Roxbury, Mass. (to 
be received after the death of certain rela- 
tives), one half of which, including his man- 
sion and farm, was to be appropriated to the 
establishment of an agricultural school under 
the direction of the college. 

The Chandler Scientific School, connected 
with Dartmouth College, at Hanover, N. IL, 
was established in 1851, in acceptance of a 
gift of $50,000, bequeathed to the trustees, 
for this purpose, by Abiel Chandler. He 
was a wealthy merchant of Boston, Mass., 
who was born in 1778 in Concord, N. H., 
and died in Walpole, K H., March 22d, 
1851. By the will of the founder, instruc- 
tion is to be given in "■ mechanics and civil 
engineering, the invention and manufacture 
of machinery, carpentry, masonry, archi- 
tecture, and drawing, the investigation of 
properties and uses of materials employed 
in the arts, the modern languages, and 
English literature, together with bookkeep- 
ing." The school was opened in 1852, 
and the cour.se of study occupies four years ; 
for the general course in the fourth year, 
may be substituted a civil engineering course 
or a commercial course. 

Those completing the regular course of 
four years,. and passing a satisfactory exam- 
ination, are entitled to the degree of Bach- 
elor of Science. 

Resident graduates will be instructed in 
the following advanced subjects, through an 
additional course of one or two j^ears : An- ' 
alytical chemistry, analytical and celestial 



402 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



rnechanics, application of ineclianlcs to car- 
pentry and masonry, mechanical agents, 
geodesy, practical astronomy, the arts of 
design with reference to the useful arts. 

Tlie demand for instruction in chemistry 
beyond the requirements of the general col- 
lege course, has led to a modification of the 
requirements of many of our colleges and 
universities. Among the schools included 
in the University of Virginia, is one of 
chemistry, in which department a systemat- 
ic course of practical instruction is given in 
qualitative and quantitative analysis. The 
laboratory is open, and an instructor gives 
his personal attention to the students there- 
in, for eight hours daily, five days in the 
week. 



CHAPTER XIIT. 

SCHOOLS OF AGRICULTURE. 

The first plan of an agricultural school or 
college in the English language, which we 
have met with, was published in 1651 by 
"Master Samuel Hartlib," to whom Milton 
addressed his Tractate on E<lucation, and to 
whom the Parliament of England gave a 
pension for his disinterested efforts to ad- 
vance the agricultural and educational inter- 
ests of the commonwealth. It was nearly 
two hundred years before an institution of 
this character was established by individual 
enterprise, without the aid of any public 
grant, in the British dominions. 

The Agricultural College of the State of 
Michigan was established in 1855, in accord- 
ance with a provision of the revised consti- 
tution of the state, adopted in 1850. The 
legislature in 1855, and again in 1857, pro- 
vided for the purchase of land and the en- 
dowment and management of the in>titution. 
A tract of 676 acres, lying three and a half 
uiiles east from Lansing, the state capital, 
was purchased, and a building with accom- 
modations for 80 pupils was erected and 
dedicated May i:Jth, 1857. The faculty in- 
cludes a president, and professors of mathe- 
matics, chemistry, physiology and entomol- 
ogy, natural science, English literature, and 
farm economy and horticulture. The tui- 
tion is free (except a matriculation fee of 
$5), and the students are required to labor 
three hours a day on the farm, for which 
they receive a compensation whieh is allow- 
ed in payment of V>oard, The course of 
professional instruction embraces two years, 



and includes — I. Theory and Practice of 
Agriculture — 11. Agricultural Chemistry — 
III. Civil and Rural Engineering — IV. Bot- 
any and Vegetable Physiology — V. Zoology 
and Animal Physiology. There is a pre- 
paratory course of one year, designed for 
candidates who have not pursued elsewhere 
the preliminary studies required in English 
language, geography and arithmetic, for 
entrance. 

The State University of Michigan at Ann 
Arbor provides a scientific course, occupy- 
ing four years, and embracing mathematics, 
astronomy, geology, zoology, botany, chem- 
istry, mineralogy, philosophy, rhetoric, his- 
tory and modern languages. The Sc1k>o! of 
Engineering, connected with the institution, 
receives students who hav^e completed the 
second and third years of the scientific 
course, and devotes two years to their in- 
struction in engineering. The only charge 
to the student, from whatever part of the 
country he may come, is an admission fee 
of ten dollars. 

The Maryland Agricultural College was 
established and endowed by the state legis- 
lature in 1856. The college farm is about 
two and a half miles north of Bladcnsburg, 
in Prince George's county. The f:iculty in- 
cludes a president, and five professors, viz.: 
one of the science of agriculture, includ- 
ing chemistry, geology, etc. ; one of the ex- 
act sciences, one of languages, one of phi- 
losoph}', history, etc., and one of natui'al 
history, botany, etc. The student, in con- 
nection with his course, is obliged to labor 
on the farm. 

The agricultural college now established 
near Ovid, Seneca Co., N. Y., took its rise 
from plans started as early as 1837. No- 
thing definite was accomplished until, in 
1 844, a charter for an agricultural college 
was obtained from the legislature ; after fur- 
ther delays, in 1856, the sum of $40,000 
was appropriated to the college by the legis- 
lature, on condition that a like sum be raised 
by private subscription. This was speedily 
accomplished, and a tract of some 4u0 acres 
purchased. Preparation is making for the 
accommodation of a large nuujber of pupils. 

The Farmers' High School of Pennsyl- 
vania was founded by the agricultural society 
of the state, with a fund of $1U,00U, accu- 
mulated from its annual exhibitions up to 
the autumn of 1854. The legislature passed 
an act of incorporation, and a board of trus- 
tees was organized ; after various private 



COMMERCIAL SCHOOLS — SCHOOLS FOR MECHANICS. 



403 



subscriptions, the legislature appropriated in 
1858 the sum of 850, uOO to the school, 
half of which sum being dependent on the 
raising of a like amount by individual con- 
tribution, Tn 1850, the suitable farm-build- 
ing-^ were erected on lands giveu to the 
school. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

COMMERCIAL SCHOOLS. 

" Commehcia'l schools," which supply an 
education adapted to future business life, and 
to make up in some measure for previous de- 
ficiencies in the studies of youths early de- 
voted to trade, are a class of schools of quite 
recent date; none of them, it is believed, 
being of a greater age than fifteen or twenty 
years. They are naturally established in the 
larger and busier mercantile cities, and their 
course of study, of course a comparatively 
brief and confined one, usually includes but 
little if anv of classics and literature, con- 
sisting principally of writing, book-keeping, 
commercial arithmetic, business proceedings, 
and sometimes mercantile law. Their ex- 
istence seems to indic;ite a deficiency in their 
department, in the higher public schools, 
although those schools could not attbrd a 
similar course of equal extent and thorough- 
ness. But there is no doubt that a compe- 
tent course of studies preparatory to com- 
mercial life, should form part of the course 
of the hiy;h schools of our cities and lnvixe 
busmess towns. 



CHAPTER XV. 

SCHOOLS FOR MECHANICS. 

During nearly half a century, many in- 
dications may be traced of a more or less 
distinct feeling of the need of some system- 
atic instruction in mechanic arts, although 
this feeling has not been so extensive and 
decided as to result in any permanent insti- 
tutional provision for the purpose. 

The Lyceum movement, in which Josiah 
Ilolbiook was so active a laborer, commenc- 
ing about 1823, was accompanied by the 
institution of many courses of lectures and 
classes upon subjects connected with me- 
chanics and trades. The Mechanics' School 
of New York City, an institution still exist- 



ing, was originally intended to afford instruc- 
tion, among other things, in mechanical pro- 
cesses and the application of mechanical 
principles. 

A movement was made in the legislature 
of Massachusetts, in 1825, for the establish- 
ment of a state institution for the professional 
training of youth intending to follow '■ mer- 
cantile, manufacturing, and mechanical pur- 
suits."' Though advocated with some earn- 
estness during several sessions, this plan 
never reached a practical dcv(;lopment, 

The " manual labor schools," of whicli a 
considerable number were established a few 
years later, fVe«jucntly provided for the prac- 
tice of some mechanical trade, usually car- 
pentry. Such was the case at Lane Semi- 
nary and at the Oneida Institute, both found- 
ed in 1829. and elsewhere. 

Somewhat more extensive was the plan of 
the Franklin Institute of Philadelphia, which 
established in 1826 a high school, of which 
it was a special object to " aftbrd the indus- 
trial classes cheap instruction in sciences and 
arts." This institution flourished under the 
energetic management of Professor W. R. 
Johnson, and until superseded by the intro- 
duction of the present school system of 
Philadelphia, with its high school, which 
has not, however, retained this practical de- 
partment. 

i3ricf courses of lectures, to apprentices, 
or to mechanics, were organized at various 
points, as a consequence of the Lyceum 
movement. Where these have been main- 
tained as an annual institution, however, 
their distinctive, practically useful character 
has invariably disappeared in the merely 
amusing dissipation which is the only object 
of the present " lecture system."- 

There exist at present in Philadelphia and 
Brooklyn schools known as " Polytechnic 
Schools;" but this name seems to have been 
chosen as well adapted to catch the ear, 
rather than as descriptive of any thing pecu- 
liar in their course of study. 

Some provision for systematic instruction 
in the mechanic arts, of a higher grade than 
the pure realism of the shop, is certainly 
needed. Departments of this character at- 
tached to the higher public schools of our 
larger towns would uncjuestionably serve a 
very useful purpose, and would co'.nmand a 
certain number of pupils. At the same 
time it must be confessed that this number 
woidd not immediately be great; a fact 
readily accounted for by the two considera; 



404 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



tions, that the peculiar conditions of life in 
the United States strongly disincline the 
young to apply themselves long or closely to 
the accjiiirement of a finished mastery of any 
occupation, and that it would be extremely 
difficult to supply instructors qualified to ex- 
plain and teach the actual practical applica- 
tion to wood, stone, metal, and other mate- 
rials, of true scientific principles iu the most 
economical way. 



CHAPTEE XVI. 

FINE ARTS. 

In modern civilization, culture in fine arts 
(music, painting, sculpture, architecture) is 
the attribute and privilege of an advanced 
stage of social organization. The people of 
the United States, hitherto intensely oc- 
cupied in subduing a new country, and in a 
vigorous and prosperous pursuit of material 
wealth, have at the present day but just be- 
gun those vast accretions of capital, which 
must form the basis of any culture in fine 
arts worthy of the name. To none of these 
arts has great attention been given, and for 
teaching them nothing like a general public 
provision has been made. 

During the last thirty years, the practice 
has slowly gained ground among the public 
schools, both in city aud country, of afford- 
ing the pupils some instruction and training 
in the rudiments of singing. In a far small- 
er number of schools, similar rudimentary 
instruction has been given in drawing; and 
in one or two secondary schools of the high- 
er city class, pupils have been atforded the 
means of pursuing that study further, by 
means of collections of casts and models. 

Generally speaking, however, the aspirant 
after a profound or even competent knowl- 
edge of any fine art, has been left to acquire 
it either by his own unassisted and solitary 
labor, by the aid of some older practitioner, 
or by study in foreign schools of art. 

The progress of the study of music in our 
schools, is coincident with the career of the 
distinguished teacher, Lowell Mason, who 
was the first to introduce into the school 
system an efficiimt mode of teaching singing, 
about 1830. Of musical schools exclusively, 
it is believed that there have not been more 
than two, both of which are in Connecticut. 
Private schools for girls usually afford their 
pupils more or less training in executing 



music upon the piano-forte, but without 
communicating any scientific knowledge of 
music. 

Within a recent period, several schools 
have been opened in a few of the larger 
cities, for instruction in drawing; always 
having the practical side most prominent, 
and leading their pupils as rapidly as possi- 
ble toward the production of salable designs 
for manufacturing purposes, or of wood en- 
gravings for the use of publishers. A super- 
ficial pi-actice in drawing, usually by the 
senseless method of exclusively copying 
other drawings or engravings, is commonly 
afforded at private schools for girls. Some 
small advantages for those desiring moi'c ad- 
vanced acquirements, are afforded by the 
various public galleries and collections acces- 
sible in some large cities. The painter or 
sculptor, as well as the architect, must how- 
ever learn his art from such sources as his 
individual opportunities allow him to com- 
mand. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

FEMALE EDUCATION". 

The education of girls is of course not 
properly a special department any more than 
that of boys. Still, the history and the 
present condition of this department of edu- 
cation present many facts which will suffi- 
ciently justify its separate treatment, aside 
from the intrinsic differences which must also 
characterize it. 

Until a comparatively recent period, but 
trifling provision was made for the education 
of girls. Down to the close of the Revolu- 
tion, although girls might attend the public 
schools, but a small share of time or labor 
was devoted to them ; and their attention 
was supposed to be more suitably dii'ected to 
needle-work and housewifery than to intel- 
lectual training. 

The first school of eminence exclusively 
for girls was the Moravian Seminary at Beth- 
lehem, Pennsylvania. This was established as 
early as 1 749, but was not opened as a board- 
ing-school until 1785. It enjoyed a national 
reputation ; and its catalogue ijicludos suc^i 
names as Lansing, Livingston, Bayard, Sum- 
ter, and many others from the whole range 
of states. It was never more flourisliing 
than in 1860. 

It has been claimed that President Dwight, 
in his school at Greenfield, opened in 1783, 



FEMALE EDUCATION. 



405 



was the first in the country to admit pupils 
of botlx sexes to an entire eqnahty of intel- 
lectual training. In any event, both this 
school ?nJ his previous one at Northampton 
alfordod to both boys and girls an education 
of uncoininon value for the period. 

When that f;amous teacher, Caleb IVingham, 
removed to Boston, in 1784, he did so with 
the design of opening there a school for girls, 
who were, singularly enough, at that time ex- 
cluded from the public schools. Mr. Bing- 
liam's enterprise was successful, and was also 
the means ot" rcvohilioniziiig the unfair school 
system of the cit}^ and of introducing a plan 
which, though variously imperfect, at least 
provided some public instruction for girls. 

In 1792, Miss Pierce opened a school for 
girls at Litchfield, Connecticut, which con- 
tinued ill operation for forty years, and edu- 
cated large numbers of young ladies from all 
parts of the country. lu the same year, at 
I'hiladelphia, was incorporated one of the 
first, if not the first, female academies in this 
country. 

From about 1797 to 1800, Rev. William 
Woodbridge, father of the well-known au- 
thor and educator W. C. Woodbridge, taught 
a young ladies' school, at first at Norwich, 
and afterward at Middletown, Conn. 

lu 1816, Mrs. Emilia Willard commenced 
lier endeavors to secure for women the op- 
portunity of acquiring a grade of education 
corresponding to that which colleges furnish 
to the other sex. The emiuent success and 
excellence of lier celebrated school at Troy 
are well known; and an important conse- 
quence of her labors was, that female semi- 
naries were admitted to receive aid from the 
literature fund of the state of New York, 
on the same terms with the academies. 

From 1818 to 1830, Rev. Joseph Emerson 
conducted a young ladies' school of high rep- 
utation and efficiency, successively at Byfield 
and Saugus, Mass., and \yethersfield. Conn. 
la 182.3, George B. Emerson, Esq., opened 
a young ladies' school at Boston, probably 
with a more complete and efficient outfit and 
apparatus than any which had preceded it. 

The well-known school of John Kingsbury, 
Esq., an institution of similar grade and ex- 
cellence, was opened at Providence, R. I., in 
1828. 

In 1822, Miss Catherine E. Beecher open- 
ed a school for young ladies at Hartford, 
Conn., which she conducted with eminent 
success for ten years. She afterward tauglit 
for a short period at Cincinnati, but her la- 



bors for female education have subsequently 
consisted in various publications, and in the 
maiiageiiicnt of an extended scheme for a 
system of Christian female education, inclu- 
ding a national board, high schools, and nor- 
mal schools ; which has resulted in the es- 
tablishment of several valuable institutions. 

In 1825, at Wilbraham, Mass., was open- 
ed the first of the Methodist Conference 
seminaries; institutions whose plan has sub- 
stantially followed that of the Wilbraham 
Seminary, which was drawn up by Rev. Wil- 
bur Fiske, its first principal. 

Miss Z. P. Grant and Miss Mary Lyon, 
both pupils of Rev. Joseph Emerson, were 
associated in the conduct of an excellent 
school for young ladies at Ipswich, Mass. 
The energetic and persevering labors of Miss 
Lyon, with the purpose of establishing a per- 
manent Protestant school of high grade for 
young ladies, resulted in the establishment 
of the celebrated seminary at South Iladley, 
which was opened in 1837. 

The present era in the history of female edu- 
cation in the United States is perhaps most 
strikingly characterized by the number of 
large and largely endowed institutions of a 
high grade, which have been established in 
various parts of the country. One of thern is 
the Mount Ilolyoke Female Seminary, at 
South Hadley, just mentioned. The Packer 
Collegiate Institute at Brooklyn, N. Y., an- 
other of them, had previously existed as the 
Bi'ooklyn Institute ; and received its present 
name in consequence of the munificent gift 
of $85,000 by Mrs. Harriet L. Packer of that 
city. The whole property represents a value 
of $150,000. A still more magnificent en- 
dowment is that of the Vassar Female Col- 
lege at Poughkeepsie, N. Y., for which the 
vast sura of $40S,0U0 has been given by 
Matthew Vassar, Esq., of that city. 

A characteristic of the female education 
of the present period is the practice of ad- 
mitting pupils of both sexes to institutions 
f)r secondary and superior education; to the 
high schools of cities, to academies, to the 
normal schools, and even in one or two in- 
stitutions of the collegiate grade. Another 
one is the increasing regard which is paid to 
the employment of female teachers, and to 
their thorough preparatory training f )r that 
duty, in institutions partly or wholly for that 
purpose. On the whole, the department of 
female eclucation is, at present, attracting as 
much attention, and improving as rapidly, 
as any other. 



406 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

SCHOOL-HOUSES, APPARATUS, AND TEXT- 
BOOKS. 

In no department of instruction has the 
work of improvement been so general, so 
rapid, or so thorough as in the material 
outfit of the school. Within a quarter of 



a century a revolution has been wrought 
in public opinion and action iu respect 
to the location, construction, ventilation, 
warming, fui'niture, and equipment gener- 
ally, of school-houses, and more than thir- 
ty-five millions of dollars have been ex- 
pended for these objects within this short 
period. 



SCHOOL-HOUSES AS THET WERE. 









SCHOOL-HOUSES, APPARATUS, AND TKXT-BOOK8. 



407 



SCHOOL-HOUSES AS THEY ARE. 




COUNTRY DlSiRlCT SCUOOL-UOUSE. 










VUiLAQE 8CH00L-H0CSE, 



PACKER FEMALE COLLEGIATE INSTITUTE. 








c^lMo^ulil >C. 



iir^ \^ ^' *^v« ^ \~- ■~~^^^'^^^?^N5s>i«, 



~^^^^. 










^5::i? 






Fig 3 Interior of Chapel. 



SCHOOL-HOUSES, APPARATUS, AND TEXT-BOOKS. 



413 



8CII00L-UO0KS. 

Tlic improvcmont in the authorsliip and inauufacturc of text-books, from the Primer 
to the Manuals of our colleges and scientitic schools, within the last half century is im- 
mense. We will refresh the memory of some of our readers hy reproducintr a few 
of the tough subjects and illustrations with which they or their fathers were painfully 
familiar. 

The Horn-hook. 

Few of us have had the satisfaction of learning our letters after tlie manner de- 
scribed by Prior: — 

"To master John the Eiifrlisli rriMid 
A Horn-book gives of irinfi:erbreii(l; 
And that the child may learn tiie better, 
As he can name, he eats tlie letter." 

To many, even a picture of the old-fiisbioned Horn-book — the Primer of our ancestors, 
consisting of a single leaf pasted on a board, and covered in some instances with thin 







nORN-BOOK OF Tim EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 



transparent horn to ptescrvc it from being torn or soiled — will be now. The following 
description and the accompanying cut we copy from Barnard's American Journal of 
Educntion, for March, 1860: — 

Shcnstone, who was taught to read at a dame school near Halesowen, in Shropshire, in 



414 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



his delightfully quaint poem of the Schoo/mistre.ss, comnieinoratiiig his venerable precep- 
tress, thus records the use of the llorn-hook : — ■ 

" Lol HOW Willi state she altera Iier command ; 
Eftsoons the urcliiiis to their tasks repair; 
Tiieir books of stature small lliey take in hand, 
Which with pellucid liorii secured are 
To save from tiiiger wet the letters fair." 

Cowper thus describes tlie Horn-book of his time : — 

" Neatly secured from being soiled or torn 
Beneath a pane of thin translucent horn, 
A book (to please us at a tender age 
"lis called a book, though but a single page). 
Presents the prayer the Saviour deigned to teach, 
Which children use, and parsons — when they preach." 

Tirocinium, or a Revitw of Schools, 1784. 

In " Specimens of West Country Diahct^'' the use of the Horn-book is thus shown: — 
" CommetliLT Bilbj Chubb, an breng the hornen book. Gee ma the vester in tha 
windor, yor Pal came! — What! be a slecpid — i'U wake ye. Now, Billy, there's a good 
bway ! Ston still there, and mind what I da za to ye, an whaur I da poitit. Now ; criss- 
cross, girt A, little a — b — c — d. That's liglit, Billy; you'll zoon lorn the criss-cross- 
lain; you'll zoon auvergit Bobby Jiliiy — you'll zoon be a scholard. A's a pirty chubby 
bway — Lord lov'n !" 

New England Primer. 



Of the New England Primer we can give 
no earlier specimen than the edition of 1777, 
embellished with a portrait of John Han- 
cock, Esq., who was at that time President 
of the Continental Congress. 




The Honorable JOHN HANCOCK, Efq; 
Prefident of the American Congress. 



We must not omit the painfully interest- 
ing group of John Rogers in the burning 
faggots, Avith his wife and nine or ten chil- 
dren — including the one at the breast — a 
problem which has puzzled many a school- 
boy's brain : 




R. JohnRogers, minifter of the 
- gofpel in London, was the firit mar- 
tyr in Queen Mary's reign, and was 
burnt at Smithfield, February 14, 1554. — His 
wife with nine small children, and one at 
her breast following him to the ftake ; with 
which forrowful figKi he wrs not in tho 
leart d.tunted, hut with wonderful patience 
died courageoufly for the gofpel of J e s P a 
Christ. 



SCHOOL-HOUSES, APPARATUS, AND TEXT-BOOKS. 



415 



Wc arc fortunate in beino; able to present our readers with an exact transcript of the 
four paircs of the first illustrated alphabet printed in tliis country. Some of our readers 
mav recotrnize their old friends of the later editions of the Primer, in wliich " Younj]: 
Timothy''' and "Zaccheus lie" were drawn to nature less severely true. The Avhole 
belonirs'to that department of literature which "he wlio runs may read, and lie who reads 
will run." 



•D 




In Adam's Fall 
Wo finned all. 



Heaven to find, 
The Bible Mind. 



Chrifl crucify'd 
For finners dy'd. 



The Deluge drown'd 
The Earth around. 



Elijah hid 
By Ravens fed. 



The judgment made 
Felix afraid. 



Q 




\ o A H did view 
The old world & new 

Your.fi Ob A uiAs, 

D A V I D, .1 o s I A s 
All were pious. 

1 ' K T E R deny'd 
His Lord and cry'd. 



Queen E s i h e r fues 
And faves the Jcu\i. 



Young pious Ruth 
Left all for Truth. 



Young S A M ' L dear. 
The Lord did fear. 




As runs the Glass, 
Our Life doth pass. 



My Book and Heart 
Must never part. 



Job feels the Rod, — 
Yet bleffes GOD. 



Proud Korah's troop 
Was fwallovved up 

Lot fled to Zoar, 
Saw fiery Shower 
On Sodom pour. 

MosEs was he 
Who IsracFs Hoft 
Led thro' the Sea. 



vV 



X 




Young Timothy 
Learnt fin to fly. 

V A s r H I for Pride, 
Was let afide. 



Whales in the Sea, 
GOD's Voice obey. 

Xerxes did die. 
And fo muft L 



While youth do ch(>ar 
Death may be near. 

Z A c c H E us ho 
Did climb the Tree 
Our Lord to fee. 



416 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



WEBSTER'S SPELLING BOOK. 

Few books have done more to give uniformity to the orthography of the language or 
to fill the memory of successive generations with wholesome truths than Webster's Spell- 
ing Book. Who can forget his first introduction to those four-and-twenty characters, 
standing in stiff" upright columns, in their roman and italic dress, beginning with little a, 
and ending with that nondescript " and per se ;" or his first lesson in combining letters, 



bli 



^7 



ba be bi bo 

Or his joy in reaching words of two syllables, 

ba ker bri er ci der 

Or his exultation in learning to "know his duty" in those "Lessons of Easy Words" be- 
ginning, 

No man may put oif the law of God : 
Or the more advanced steps, both in length of words and stubborn morality, in. pursuit of 

The wick-ed flee 
And closing his spelling career with 



And 



Om 
Mich 

Ail 
Ale 



pom 
11 



pa noo 
11 mack 



sue 
a nack 



to be troubled 
malt liquor 



In this hasty glance at this famous text book, we have designedly passed over the fa- 
bles commencing with the Rude Boy and ending with Poor Tray, that we might intro- 
duce them all unabridged with their unique illustrations. 

Of the Boy thatjiok Apples. 

AN old man found a rude boy upon 
one of his trees ftealing Apples, and de- 
fired him to come down; but the young 
Sauce-box told him plainly he would 




Wc 



you 



? faid the old Man. 



then I will fetch you down; fo he pulled 
up feme tufts of Grafs, and threw at 
him ; but this only made the Youngfter 
laugh, to think the old Man fhould pre- 
tend to beat him down from the tree 
with grafs only. 

Well, well, faid the old Man, if nei- 
ther words nor grafs will do, I muft try 
what virtue there is in Stones; fo the 
old Man pelted him heartily with ftones; 
which foon made the young Chap haftcn down from the tree and beg the old Man's pardon. 

MORAL. 

If good words and gentle means will not reclaim the wicked, they muft be dealt with in a 
more fevere manner. 



WEBSTER S SPELLING BOOK. 



417 




The Country Maui and her Milk Pail. 

WHEN men fufFer their imagination 
to amufe them, with the profpedt of dif- 
tant and uncertain improvements of their 
condition, they frequently fuftain real 
lofles, by their inattention to thofe affairs 
in which they are immediately concern- 
ed. 

A country Maid was walking very de- 
liberately with a pail of milk upon her 
head, when flic fell into the following 
train of reflc(;:tion.s : The money for 
which I fhall fell this milk will enable 
me to increalc my ftock of eggs to three 
hundred. Thefe eggs, allowmg for what 
may prove addle, and what may be de- 
flroyed by vermin, will produce at leafl 
two hundred and fifty chickens. The 
chickens will oe fit to carry to market about Chriftmas, when poultry always bears a good 
price; fo that by May Day I cannot fail of having money enough to purchafe a new Gown. 
Green — let me confider — yes, green becomes my complexion befl, and green it fhall be. In 
this drefs I will go to the fair, where all the young fellows will ftrive to have me for a part- 
ner; but I fhall perhaps refufe every one of them, and with an air of difdain, tofs from 
them. Tranfported with this triumphant thought, fhe could not forbear ading with her head 
what thus pafled in her imagination, when down came the pail of milk, and with it all her 
imaginary happincfs. 

The Cat and the Rat. 

A CERTAIN Cat had made fuch 
unmerciful havoc among the vermin of 
her neighbourhood, that not a Angle Rat 
or Moufc ventured to appear abroad. 
Pufs was foon convinced, that if affairs 
remained in their prefent fituation, fhe 
muft be totally unfupplied with provif- 
ions. , After mature deliberation, there- 
fore, fhe refolved to have recourfe to 
ftratagem. For this purpofe fhe fuf- 
pended herfelf to a hook with her head 
downwards, pretending to be dead. 
The Rats and Mice, as they peeped 
from their holes, obferving her in this 
dangling attitude, concluded fhe was 
hanging for fome mifdemeanour ; and 
with great joy immediately fallied forth in queft of their prey. Pufs, as foon as a fufHcient 
number were colkacd together, quitting her hold, dropped into the midil of them; and 
very few had the fortune to make good their retreat. This artifice having fuccccded fo well, 
fhe' was encouraged to try the event of a fecond. Accordingly flie whitened her coat all 
over, by rolling herfelf in a heap of flour, and in this difguife lay concealed in the bottom of 
a meal tub. This ftratagem was executed in general with the same efFcft as the former. But 
an old experienced Rat, altogether as cunning as his adverfary, was not fo eafily enfnared. I 
don't much like, faid he, that white heap yonder : Something whifpers me there is mifchief 
concealed under it. 'Tis true it may be meal ; but it may likewife be fomething that I flrould 
not relifli quite fo well. There can be no harm at leaft in keeping at a proper diflance ; for 
caution, I am fure, is the parent of fafety. 




418 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



The Fox and the Swallow. 




gorged, 
mainine 



anotlier 
drop of 



more 
blood 



hungry 
in my 



fwarm would fuccccd, 



ARISTOTLE informs us, that the 
following Fable was spoken by Efop to 
the Samians, on a debate upon chang- 
ing their minifters, who were accufed 
of plundering the commonwealth. 

A Fox Iwimming acrofs a river, 
happened to be entangled in fome 
weeds that grew near the bank, from 
which he was unable to extricate him- 
felf. As he lay thus expofed to whole 
fwarms of flies, which were galling him 
and fucking his blood, a fwallow, ob- 
ferving his diftrels, kindly offered to 
drive them away. By no means, faid 
the Fox ; for if thefe fhould be chafed 
away, which are already fufficiently 
and I fhould be robbed of every re- 



The Fox and the Bramble. 




A FOX, clofely purfued by a pack 
of Dogs, took fhelter under the covert 
of a Bramble. He rejoiced in this 
afylum ; and for a while, was very 
happy ; but foon found that if he at- 
tempted to flir, he was wounded by 
thorns and prickles on every fide. 
However, making a virtue of neceflity, 
he forbore to complain; and com- 
forted himfelf with reflecting that no 
blifs is perfeft ; that good and evil are 
mixed, and flow from the fame foun- 
tain. Thefe Briers, indeed, faid he, 
will tear my fkin a little, yet they keep 
off the dogs. For the fake of the good 
then let me bear the evil with patience; 

each bitter has its fweet; and thefe Brambles, though they wound my flefli, preferve my life 

from danger. 

The Partial Judge. 

A FARMER came to a neighbour- 
ing Lawyer, expreffing great concern 
for an accident which he faid had juft 
happened. One of your Oxen, con- 
tinued he, has been gored by an un- 
lucky Bull of mine, and I fhould be 
glad to know how I am to make you 
reparation. Thou art a very honcu 
fellow, replied the lawyer, and wilt 
not think it unreafonable that I cx- 
peft one of thy Oxen in return. It 
is no more than juftice, quoth the Far- 
mer, to be fure ; but what did I iay ? 
— I miftake — It is your Bull that has 
killed one o^ my Oxen. Indeed ! fays 
the Lawyer, that alters the cafe ; I 




WEBSTER S SPELLING BOOK. 



419 



muft inquire into the affair; and if— And z/"/ faid the Farmer — the bufinefs I find would 
have been concluded without an if, had you been as ready to do jufticc to others, as to exad 
it from them. 



The Bear and the two Friends. 

TWO Friends, fetting out togeth- 
er upon a journey, which led through 
a dangerous forcll, mutually promifed 
to aflift each other if they fliould hap- 
pen to be affaultcd. They had not 
proceeded far, before they perceived 
a Bear making towards them with 
great rage. 

There were no hopes in flight; but 
one of them, being very adive, fprung 
up into a tree; upon which the other, 
throwing himlelf Hat on the ground, 
held his breath and pretended to be 
dead; remembering to have heard it 
afferted, that this creature will not 
prey upon a dead carcafs. The bear 
came up, and after fmelling to him fome time, left him and went on. When he was fairly 
out of fight and hearing, the hero from the tree called out — Well, my friend, what faid the 
bear ? he feemed to whiiper you very clofely. He did fo, replied the other, and gave me this 
good piece of advice, never to afTociate with a wretch, who in the hour of danger, will defert 
his friend. 




The Two Dogs. 

HASTY and inconfiderate con- 
nections are generally attended with 
great difadvantages ; and much of 
every man's good or ill fortune, de- 
pends upon the choice he makes of 
his friends. 

A good-natured Spaniel overtook a 
furly Mafliff, as he was travelling up- 
on the high road. Tray, although 
an entire ilranger to Tiger, very civ- 
illy accofted him ; and if it would be 
no interruption, he faid, he fhould be 
glad to bear him company on his way. 
Tiger, who happened not to be alto- 
gether in fo growling a mood as ufual, 
accepted the propoial; and they very 
amicably purfucd their journey together. \\ the midll of their converfation, they arrived at 
the next village, where Tiger began to difplay his malignant difpofition, by an unprovoked 
attack upon every dog he met. The villagers immediately fallied forth with great indig- 
nation, to refcue their refpedive favourites ; and falling upon our two friends, without dif- 
tindion or mercy, poor Tray was moft cruelly treated, for no other reafon, but his being 
found in bad company. 




420 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



The following cuts, sketched from Willson's Scries of " School and Family Keadir-, " w'fi the ac- 
companying explanations, show the fjreat degree of advancement made, not only in tlie arti>tic heautv 
of the Illustrations contained in the latest published of our Reading-Books, but, more especially, in the 
successful attemjjt to combine instruction in reading with advancement in useful knowledge. 




Prom the First Reader. 





Eye, Nose, Ear, Mouth, Face. 



Aril), llaud, Boot, Foot, Shoe. 



The Eagle's Nest. 



The leading principle developed in the Second Reader 
(but which also runs throughout the entire Series) is tlie early 
cultivation of the I'trcfptive Faculties hy lessons drawn from 
a great variety of objects and scenes which are represented to 
the eye of the pupil. 

The Third Header of the Series, after a brief synopsis of 
the "Elemiuts of Kloiution," is divided into Four I'arts:_ 



Part I., "Stories from tlie Bible," beautifully and bountifully 

ilhitsrated Part II., "Moral Lesson.s."— P.-irt III., "First 

Division of Animal Life," embracing the Mammalia ; and 
Part IV., "Miscellaneous." The following four illustrations 
give the pupil a general idea of the four great divisions of the 
Animal Kingdom. 





Animals 

6ilM, 



! 1 f 1 f * ^ * T 



OF THE Seat, Kind. — 1. Common Sial, Pliara fituh'ii'. 2. Sea-Bear, Phoeaur- 
3. Sta-Liou, Phocajabata. 4. Wuh'ua, or Sea-llorse, Trichtchus rosmarus. 



The subject of tho Mimma- 
lia, in the Tihrd I;eadek, is 
illustrated by more than two 
hundred figurrs of Animals, 
many of them i i groups, with 
Scales of Mckshi: mcnt sliow- 
ing their comparative tizes, as 
in the Animals of the Seal kind 
in the annexed engraving. 
This we believe to be a new 
feature, even in zoological 
works, and it is one that is em- 
inently useful. 

An attempt has been made— 
and, it is believed, successfully 
— to invest the subject of ani- 
mal life with a great degree of 
interest for children; to popu- 
larize it to their capacities; to 
give all desirable variety to the 
lessons, as exercises in reading; 
and to convey as much positive 
information as would bi' com- 
patible with these requisites for 
a good Keading-Book. Nimier- 
ous interesting incidents of ani- 
mal life, illustrating traits of 
character, haliils, &c , and both 
poetical and prose selections, 
effectually relieve the descriji- 
tions of that sani'iiess of style 
and matter which is found in 
most zoological works. 



ACADEMIES, HIGH SCHOOLS, ETC. 



421 





(SHAIEl'o 



AUm'iatru. 



\ Mociej^n j 
Ppriorf . ' 



I'liocene. 
ATiocei/te. 
Nor fin p. 



Teriiftry jrr 
Period. ^* 



Cr'-tnceozn. ' 
Oohtic. I 

Cni-lid/iifi'roas \ 



Secondary ^ 
Feriod. ^ 



J^ fpper/fi/anan. 
i^ LotverS^/unan. 
11/ ff fanihrtnn. 



H-ansition^ 
Feriod. ^- 



Cfnjr£/(ates. 
Oiiftrtz. 
MicnjS^ates. 
■^ffneits. 

CfranitB. 



I^imary 
, J*eriod: 



The FouRxn Reader, in ad- 
dition to Misrellanuoiia Selec- 
tions, 1ms divi.^ions or " I'arts" 
nppropiiatod to" llumiin I'liy.-- 
iology and Health," "Onii- 
tholof^, or Birds," "V'jgetable 
I'hygiolcijy, or Botany," "■ Nat- 
ural Philosophy," and " iSncri'd 
History," in all which there is 
great literary variety, well 
adapted for reading lessons ; 
and, moreover, the beautit'iil 
illustrations teach usefidfiulx. 
One of the cuts f i om "Uniithol- 
ogy," showing the forms, r. la- 
tive sizes, &c., of the " Climb- 
ing Birds," is here given. 

The Fifth Keaheii, which is 
the highest in the Series thus 
far published, has, in addition 
to the Miscellaneous Divisions 
rmbiticing a variety of the licst 
literary selections, the eleven 
following "Parts." 

1. "IClocutionary ;" 2. "Her- 
petolog}', or Reptiles ;" ii. " Sec- 
ond Division of Human Physi- 
ology and Health;" 4th, "Sec- 
ond Division of Vegetable Phys- 
iology, or Botany; 5. " Ichthy- 
ology, or Fishes;" 6. "tUvil 
Architecture;" 7. "Second Di- 
vi.-ion of Natural Philosophy; 
8. "Physical G(ograpliy;" 9. 
"Chemistry;" 10. "Geology;" 
11. "Ancient History." We 
have room to introduce only 
one illustration from each of 
two of these divisions. 

Tlio Botanical Illustration 
here given represents the 
Trumpet-Flower and Labiate 
Families; another cut shows 
tlie features which specially 
characterize these families, but 
for which we have not room 
lure. The Classification of 
Plants, in accordance with the 
.\alural Systc7y>, is shown 
cliietiy by such interesting 11- 
lust ations as these, which cer- 
t.iinly accomplish far more than 
pi.ges of description. More- 
over, the economical uses of 
plants are not overlooked, and 
the entire treatment of the sub- 
ject is well calculated to culti- 
vate, in early life, a taste for 
the successful study of Natu -e. 
In the department of Ichthyol- 
ogy, 125 species of fish are fig- 
ured. Physical Geography, 
Architecture, Geology, &c., 
have their appropriate illustra- 
tions, all teaching useful facts 
ill science, hut without the dry- 
nes,s which usually accompanies 
scientific detail. 

Of the very successful man- 
ner in which the above subjects 
have beeu made to combine the 
littrary varietil required in 
Riadiiig-Books for youth, with 
itixtruction in uxefid knowl- 
rdai', we have not room to speak 
here; but we commend a crit- 
ical examination of the books 
themselves — in tlitir design, 
plan, and exerution — to every 
one interested in the subject of 
lOduC'itional Progress. 

What a contrast between 
these and our earlier Reading- 
Books ! The simple fact that 
publishers can now njford to il- 
lustrate, so elaborately, books 
designed for use in our Common 
SrhoiAs, speaks volumes for tha 
cause of Popular Education. 



422 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



SCHOOL APPARATUS. 




APPARATUS AND EQUIPMENT OF THE DISTRICT SCHOOL AS IT WAS. 



Hw i''i!''' :iiiiiM'i'.i:'l|iliiiililiiiili,ii,'ii! iliiii,|liil;i::i,!,'i l'llil;i;iilllii'!llilliili|ifi 



WfimiW ili^r-'T-ifTiT'i!!^;:^?!^^ 




SPECIMENS OF APPARATUS OF THE SCHOOL AS IT I& 




DESK AND SETTEE, COJIBLNED. 



DESK AND SETTEE, INDEPENDENT. 



The New American Desks, with Allen's Opbra-8eats. 




Principal's Platform Desk, (rear view.) 





Assistant Teacher's Desk. 



I hOll I .,lt V SI DE VIEV 

TiMBr'8 Globe TimePieoe. 





The New Sciiciul. Gi.oi'.K. 



Hammond Blackboard Support. 




The New Ckayon-Holder. (full size.) 




The " Assembly "' School Desks and Settees. 



LIBRARIES. 



423 



f 



CHATTER XIX. 

LIBRARIES. 

At the close of the Revolution, there 
were very few public libraries in the coun- 
try ; hardly any, indeed, away from the col- 
leges and large towns, and even these, few 
and small asthcy were, were not generally 
accessible. The oldest of them all was that 
of Harvard University, which commenced 
with the bequest of Harvard's hooks in 1G38, 
but had been completely destroyed by fire 
in 1764. Great efforts were made to restore 
it, and before the commencement of the 
Revolution about 620,000 and considerable 
quantities of books had been contributed 
for that purpose. It could, however, hardly 
have had more than 10,000 or 12,000 vol- 
umes at that period. The only other col- 
lege libraries then in existence (all of them 
small, but two or three of them containing 
many valuable Avorks,) were the library of 
Yale College, founded in IVOO, which had 
received important additions from Bishop 
Berkeley and other English gentlemen ; the 
very small library of William and Mary, at 
Williamsburg, Va., founded, perhaps, two 
or three years earlier ; that of the Univer- 
sity of Pennsylvania, founded in 1749, also 
small, but valuable ; that of New Jersey Col- 
lege, at Princeton, founded in 1746 ; that 
of King's, now Columbia, College, founded 
in 1757, and containing at the close of the 
Revolution not more than 2000 volumes ; 
and the few hundred volumes which had 
been collected, as nuclei of libraries, in 
Brown University from and after 1768, 
Dartmouth College from 1769, and Rutgers 
College from 1770 to the close of the war. 
Of proprietary libraries, the oldest and 
best was the Philadelphia Library Company 
and Loganian Collection, founded by Ben- 
jamin Franklin in 1731, which in 1783 con- 
tained about 5000 volumes. The Redwood 
Library at Newport, R. I., incorporated in 
1747, though not a large collection, possessed 
considerable value to the classical and theo- 
logical student. The New York Society Li- 
brary, founded in 1754, had attained to con- 
siderable size prior to the war, but suffered 
much from the vandalism of the British sol- 
diers, its books being carried oft" by the 
knapsackful and bartered for grog. In 1795 
it had only 5000 volumes. The Charleston 
Library Society was founded a year or two 
earlier than the New York Society, and at 
the commencement of the war had between 



five and six thousand volumes, aside from 
the library of Mr. Mackenzie, bequeathed to 
it about the same time. In 1778, however, 
this fine collection was almost entirely de- 
stroyed by fire, a small portion of the books 
only being rescued from the flames, and of 
these many being broken sets. The Provi- 
dence Athenieum, founded in 1753, the 
Salem Athenanim in 1760, and the Port- 
land Athenieum in 1765, small collections, 
but well selected, the special library of the 
American Philosophical Society at Philadel- 
phia, and a state library of three or four 
hundred volumes, at Concord, New Hamp- 
shire, complete the catalogue of public li- 
braries of any considerable importance at 
the close of the war' of the Revolution. 

The period immediately subsequent to the 
war was not favorable to the multiplication 
or growth of libraries ; for, being among 
the outgrowths of an opulent and luxurious 
civilization, we could hardly look for their 
increase amid the poverty and financial re- 
vulsions which continued till nearly the 
close of the last century. Between 1783 
and 1800, ten colleges and one theological 
seminary were founded, and some of them 
— as, for instance, Bowdoin, Georgetown, 
D. C., Williams, Dickinson, Transylvania, 
and the University of North Carolina — now 
possess respectable libraries, but they have 
been mainly accnmulated within the last 
forty years. Of other libraries, we can find 
no record of even one, of any importance, 
founded in this period. 

In the period between 1800 and the close 
of the war of 1812, there were five colleges 
and two theological seminaries organized, all 
of which now have libraries of considerable 
importance. To this period also belong the 
beginnings of the Boston Athenaeum, now the 
fourth library in the country in the number 
of its volumes, the first library of Congress, 
which was destroyed by the British in 1814, 
the noble collection of the New York His- 
torical Society, and the commencement of 
the special libraries of the American An- 
tiquarian Society at Worcester, and the 
American Academy of Natural Sciences at 
Philadelphia. 

The war of 181 2 was followed by a period 
of severe financial distress, and it was not 
till about 1818 that any considerable eftbrts 
were made for the establishment of libraries. 
Between 1818 and the present time, not 
only have more than one hundred colleges 
been organized, each of which has a library 



4-24 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



of some size, and many of them from 10,- 
000 to 25,000 volumes, but there have also 
been established more than twenty theo- 
logical seminaries, with considerable collec- 
tions of books ; most of the state libraries, 
beginning with the valuable State Library at 
Albany, of over 50,000 volumes, the Con- 
gressional, Astor, Smithsonian, Boston Pub- 
lic Library, and other free libraries ; most 
of the libraries of the learned societies, and 
the extensive collections of the historical 
societies, three or four proprietary libraries 
of some note, all of the subscription libra- 
ries, known as mercantile, institute, mechan- 
ics', or apprentices' libraries, and those con- 
nected with young men's Christian associa- 
tions and with churches. Within the same 
period also, and mainly within twenty years 
past, great numbers of special libraries — 
scientific, commercial, agricultural, mining, 
humanitarian, or devoted to the promotion 
of particular departments of art or literature 
— have been founded, while in all the states 
Sunday School libraries, and in many of 
them school-district, town, and academical 
libraries have been formed. Prior to 1840, 
there were many instances in which writers 
who desired to investigate certain periods 
of history, or certain sciences or arts, were 
compelled to visit Europe in order to pro- 
cure from the great libraries of England or 
the continent the necessary facts. The ne- 
cessity for this is now nearly obviated. The 
great libraries of Cambridge, Boston, New 
York, Philadelphia, and Washington, though 
neither of them so complete as they should 
be, yet together furnish material for the prep- 
aration of works in most departments of sci- 
ence, literature, or art, and they are every 
year becoming more and more full in the 
topics heretofore deficient. 

The best free library in this country, and 
the largest, is the Astor Library of New 
York. It was founded by the bequest of 
8400,000 by John Jacob Astor, of which 
$75,000 was to be appropriated for the build- 
ing, $120,000 for the first purchase of books, 
and the remainder invested, and the interest 
applied to the management and increase of 
the library. The original building, with its 
furniture and shelving, opened in 1854, cost 
about §?1 20,000, the excess over $75,000 be- 
ing from accrued interest. The $120,000 
expended for books purchased about 80,000 
volumes. The shelf-rooin (13,000 feet) be-^ 
ing likely to prove insufficient for the wants 
of the library, \Mlliam B. Astor, Esq., the son 



of the founder of the library, purchased a 
lot adjoining the north side of the library, 
80 by 120 feet, and erected an additional 
building, somewhat larger than the original 
one, which he presented to the trustees. 
Mr. Astor has also, at different times, made 
considerable donations for the purchase of 
books. The present number of volumes 
in the library is somewhat more than 120,- 
000, nearly all acquired by purchase. In 
his long and careful bibliographical prepara- 
tion for purchasing this library, in his judi- 
cious selections, and careful expenditures, Dr. 
Cogswell, the librarian-in-chief, has establish- 
ed a claim to the gratitude of all scholars. 

The library of Harvard University has 
grown up since 1764, when the original li- 
brary was destroyed by fire, by numerous 
donations of books, and, in quite a number 
of instances, of entire libraries, as well as by 
donations and bequests of money from friends. 
These donations and bequests cannot fall 
much short of $150,000, and it has now a 
fund of $26,000, the interest of which is ap- 
plicable to the purchase of books, and the 
sum of $5000 per year, for five years from 
1859, pledged by William Gray, Esq., to be 
applied to the same purpose. The various 
collections of books in Gore Hall (the libra- 
ry building) include not only the college li- 
brary proper, but also the society libraries, 
and the libraries of the divinity, law, and 
medical schools. The whole number of vol- 
umes is about 125,000, but the library is 
very miscellaneous in character, and incom- 
plete in certain departments. The consid- 
erable sums it now has at command for pur- 
chases are applied to make good its deficien- 
cies as far and as fast as possible. 

The Boston City Library, a free public li- 
brary, now ranks third in this country. It 
was founded in 1848, in accordance with a 
law of Massachusetts providing for the es- 
tablishment of town libraries. Hon. Josiah 
Quincy, jr., then mayor of the city, gave 
$5000 toward it; Mr. Bigelow gave $1000; 
Mr. Everett and Mr. Winthrop, large dona- 
tions of books ; Mr. Joshua Bates, of Lon- 
don, $50,000, besides several thousand vol- 
umes ; Mr. Jonathan Phillips, $10,000 ; and 
others, smaller sums. The building, erected 
at a cost of $.363,000 by the city of Boston, 
is one of the finest library rooms in the 
world. The present number of volumes is a 
little more than 100,000, and is increasing 
at the rate of 8000 volumes per annum. 
During the present year (1861) also, it will 




Y~ jj ijd LJcmj[ai|Li|||li|||^ijiriJijiJC^ii^ 



I , ' 



II' 








BOSTON CITY LIBRARY. INTERIOR. 



LIBRAKIES. 



427 



receive the fine library bequeatlied to it by 
the lato Thoodorc Parker, consisting of near- 
ly 18,0()i» volumes. 

The Hoston Athenjcuni ranks fourth in 
the nunii>er of its volumes, is peculiarly rich 
in the transactions of learned societies, and 
has a considerable portion of General ^^'ash- 
ington's library. It has now about 75,000 
volumes, and has cost for its building and 
books full ^300,000. Thougli a proprietary 
librarv, it is practically free to tlie puldic for 
consultation. It was founded in 1806, but 
its principal growth has been within the last 
twenty-five years. 

The library of Congress, which was nearly 
destroyed by fire in 1851, has since been re- 
stored and largely increased. The purchases 
being made under the direction of a com- 
mittee of the two Houses, comprising their 
most eminent scholars, arc judicious, and the 
library, which contains about 65,000 vol- 
umes, is one of the best for reference and 
consultation in the country. The library of 
the Ilouse of Representatives, also in the 
Capitol, contains about 40,000 volumes. 

The Philadelphia Library Company and 
Loganian Collection is another of the pro- 
prietary libraries which are accessible to the 
public for consulting purposes free of charge. 
Though founded 130 years ago, its growth 
has been mainly achieved during the present 
century. In 1800, it contained only 7000 
or 8000 volumes, while its present number is 
about 70,000. 

The Xew York Mercantile Library is the 
largest of the subscription and lending libra- 
ries which are found in most of the consid- 
erable towns of the United States, It pos- 
sesses a fine edifice in Astor Place, which cost 
nearly 8240,000, and the rent of that portion 
of the building not occupied for library pur- 
poses and reading-rooms, will give it, when 
its debt is liquidated, a considerable annual 
fund in addition to its receipts for member- 
ship. Its reading-room is the largest in the 
country, though the free reading-room of the 
Cooper Institute very nearly approaches it. 
Its library, though intended mainly for popu- 
lar readers rather than scholars, contains a 
very considerable collection of valuable works 
of reference. Its present number of volumes 
is about 60,000. 

The Xew York State Library at Albany 
is by far the largest of all the state libraries, 
and is especially valuable for its fine collec- 
tion of works on American history and on 
the natural sciences. It was founded in 



1818, but its principal increase has been 
since 1845, at whidi time the "Warden col- 
lection of works on America was purchased 
and incorporated in the library. The late Dr. 
T. llomcyn Beck superintended it for many 
years, and to his judicious purchases it is in- 
debted for nuich of its value. Its present 
number of volumes is not far from 55,000. 

The library of the Smithsonian Institution 
at AVashington, though not so large as some 
others, numbering little more than 35,000 
volumes, is a very valuable collection. The 
aim of Dr. Henry, the secretary of the in- 
stitution, has been to* make it particularly 
full in those departments in which other li- 
braries are deficient. Its books are loaned 
to eminent scholars at a distance, when 
needed for the preparation of works of im- 
portance. For some years it received a copy 
of all copyriLiht books in the ccfimtry. 

The American Antiquarian Society at 
Worcester has an exceedingly valuable col- 
lection on American antiquities. Founded in 
1812, by the late Isaiah Thomas, Avho -was for 
twent^^ years its president, and who gave it 
about 9000 volumes, it has now about 26,000 
volumes, many of them unique in this country. 

The New York Historical Society, found- 
ed in 1 804, has a very valuable library of 
about 30,000 volumes, mainly confined to 
American history and literature ; a museum 
of American relics and antiquities ; a large 
picture gallery ; and has recently purchased 
the fine collection of Egyptian antiquities 
procured by the late Dr. Abbott. 

The American Academy of Natural Sci- 
ences at Philadelphia has a museum of nat- 
ural history of nearly 30,000 specimens, and 
a library of about 27,000 volumes, more 
complete in natural history than any other, 
and also containing a very full collection of 
the revolutionary literature of France, pre- 
sented them by Mr. William Maclure. 

Two other foundations for libraries are de- 
serving of notice : that of George Pcabody, 
Esq., for the Peabody Institute at Baltimore, 
wliich contemplates a library in connection 
with a gallery of the fine arts, a musical 
conservatoiy, etc., the entire endowment 
amounting to 1600,000 ; and tliat of the lato 
David Watkinson, of Hartford, Connecticut, 
who left, in 1857, the sum of $100,000 to 
foimd a library of reference in connection 
with the Connecticut Historical Society, and 
also made that library his residuary legatee. 

These are the most remarkable public li- 
braries of the country. There are, according 



428 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



to the latest returns, 3 libraries containinor 
over 100,000 volumes each; 9 containing over 
50,000 volumes each; 19 containing 30,000 
volumes or more; 20 containing 25,000 vol- 
umes or more ; 41 containing over 20,000; 
and 120 containing 10,000 or more. 

The total aggregate of volumes in college, 
state, national, proprietary, subscription, free, 
and town libraries, is not far from 3,800,000, 
and is increasing with great rapidity. 

There are, besides these, in many of the 
states, school-district and academic libraries, 
containing a very large aggregate amount of 
books. In the state of New York, the num- 
ber of volumes in the academic libraries re- 
porting to the Board of Regents exceeds 
125,000 ; and the number of volumes in the 
common-school libraries exceeds 1,500,000. 
Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Connecti- 
cut, Ohio, Michigan, Indiana, Illinois, Wis- 
consin, and Iowa, also make provision for 
such libraries, and have large numbers of 
them. The latest school returns indicate 
that the number of volumes in this class of 
libraries is not far from 4,000,000. 

Another class of libraries, containing in 
the aggregate a vast number of volumes, and 
in many cases works of considerable size and 
value, are the Sunday School libraries. Few 
of these contain less than 200 volumes, and 
many of them have 1000 or more. More 
than 4000 different works have been pub- 
lished for these libraries within a few years 
past by the publishing societies and private 
publishers, and large drafts are also made by 
the larger schools on English publications 
and those intended for adults. Estimating 
the number of these schools at 35,000, or 
about two thirds the number of churches (an 
estimate considerably below the truth), and 
the volumes in each library at 200, we have 
an aggregate of 7,000,000 volumes collected 
in these humble libraries. 

As might be expected, the rapid growth 
of public libraries has stimulated gentlemen 
of wealth and intellectual tastes to collect 
private libraries of considerable extent, and 
in many cases devoted to some specialty. 
Perhaps the largest of these private collec- 
tions is that of James Lenox, Esq., of New 
York, which is especially rich in early works 
and in Bibles. 

One of the most singular is that of John 
Allan, Esq., of the same city, which con- 
tains a very considerable collection of books 
which have been interleaved and illustrated 
by the collector, with choice engravings of 



the persons or events described, often to the 
number of some hundreds in each volume. 

There are in the city of New York alone not 
less than 25 private libraries containing more 
than 10,000 volumes each, and in Boston a 
still larger number. Philadelphia has also 
many very choice private libraries. 

Some of these private collections are very 
complete on American local history. No- 
ticeable among these are the libraries of 
Peter Force, Esq., of Washington, D. C. ; 
George Brinley, Esq., of Hartford, Connec- 
ticut ; George W. Greene, of Providence, E. 
I. ; and Messrs. George Bancroft, J. C. Bre- 
voort, W. J. Davis, H. C. Murphy, William 
Menzies, and J. R. Brodhead, of New York. 
The library of Hon. Henry Barnard, at 
Hartford, Connecticut, is more complete on 
tl>e subject of education than any other in 
the country ; that of W. Parker Foulke, 
Esq., of Philadelphia, is very full on prisons 
and prison discipline, and that of S. Austin 
Allibone, Esq., of the same city, on English 
literature and criticism ; that of David N. 
Lord, of New York, on ecclesiastical and 
polemic literature ; that of Professor Charles 
Anthon, of the same city, contains a fine col- 
lection of classics and works on classical liter- 
ature ; that of G. W. Pratt, also of New York, 
on Oriental languages and literature ; that of 
C. L. Bushnell, on numismatics; that of J. A. 
Stevens, jr., on the literature of the Middle 
Ages ; those of Messrs. W. P. Chapman and 
R. G. White, on dramatic and especially 
Shakspearian literature ; that of D. W. Fiske, 
on Scandinavian literature ; that of George 
Folsom, on history and geography ; that of 
R. M. Hunt, on architecture ; and those of 
Archbishop Hughes, Rev. Dr. Forbes, Rev. 
Dr. Hatfield, and Rev. Dr. Bethune, on 
theology, ecclesiastical biography, and pa- 
tristic literature. 

There are in connection Avith many of our 
benevolent and humane institutions special 
libraries containing a few hundred or thou- 
sand volumes devoted to the j^articular work 
of those institutions. Thus, the American 
Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb, at Hart- 
ford, and the New York Institution for the 
Deaf and Dumb, have each a very consider- 
able collection of works on deaf mute in- 
struction ; the American Bible Society has a 
fine collection of Bibles in all languages ; 
and the American Bible Union, a valuable 
collection of works on biblical criticism and 
exegesis, procured for the use of its transla- 
tors. , 



LIBRARIES. ^^" 



LIBIIAKIES OF COLLEGES, THEOLOGICAL SEMINARIES, &c. 

COLLEGES.* „ , 

No. 01 

M'hen Location Tolumes. 

founded. Name. Cambrid-o Muss . . '. IS-i-OW 

1(538, Harvard Colle-e WUi in sTnlrf Va -l''''* 

10J2 William and Mary J^wH^^uo-nm:;;:::::: ::::::::.::: ::: 97.000 

1700, YaleColk'KO IWeton N .1 33,000 

1746, College of New Jersey.... PhiHSm' Penu' S.-'iW 

1749, University of Pennsylvania N v Y^rk Citv NY 20,000 

1757 Columbia College iCvidonoo:! I .\..:::: ! l!:: 3S,000 

1768, Brown University llam ver Sf II 30.01M) 

1769, DartmouU. College....^ l! ! ! ! ^Hrmiswilk: n/ J"'.;::.".: .' 1^.^''^ 

1770, Rutgers College l ..vin.rf,,,, Vi •'.'^'"^ 

1781, VVa-sliingtou and Lee College ^ vi (-. ir;.,in 20.()00 

1783, Dickinson College Vim m /li' "id ■.■.■.■.■.■.■.■.■.■.■■.■.■.■.■■.'. S,"00 

1784, St. John's College AiriWon's C ><'"'» 

1785 Charleston College rH?p, C X' 1«,'''J0 

1785, University of Georgia Prin< ^E Iwar'.V^^^ '.-"0 

1789 Hampden Sidney College. r wUl I iU N C 23,000 

1789 University of North CaroUna ,> • f ,, v; .... l'',"00 

1791 University of Vermont '''^""f"^"' \ "j, .3;(.oO 

1792 Georgetown College ^m^:^^rFu^^ :;;:;.:: :::::::::::.::: 2o,ooo 

1793 Williams College }) ■"'■"".'*to« n Mass . . . . :j2,SoO 

1794 Bowdoin College ^^""'"T ,\ !^Y .. IS "0) 

1795 Union College Schen.ctadj N. \ .^^^^^ 

1798, Kentucky University MMllSnirv Vt ." ■.■.■.■.■.■.■.■.■.■.■.'.■.■.'.■.'.'• l-i''«'> 

1800, Middlebury College *" ''^''^."'^> ' \*V 2.-).iio0 

1801, University of South Carolina Columoia, »•*-■•■•• jg.noO 

1802 AVashington and Jefferson College Cannonsburg, I enn 

1804 Ohio uriiver.sity r""""'',," t.;;, .■■. M") 

1808, University of East Tennessee ^"°u mi ' t!,?I, .. .. 11,000 

1806 Uoiversity of Nashville Nashville, lenn . • • 

1808 Mount StSlary's College Near Lmniettsburg, Md ■•••• ^^ 

1809, Miami University pj- ^ ' v v 1^5,000 

1812, Himilton College V, ,"",'i d U lo.itOO 

1817 Alleghany College fi^^ wl'%Tr v; '.■'■■ ^^'^OOO 

1819 University of Virginia ,- Charlottesville, ^ a , 

1819 St. Joseph-s College WaterviUe' Me •.•.:•.::•.:••.•.■.•.■.".:".■.:■.■.■.■.■.■:■.. 1. ,00 

182!), Colby University w , • !'„ n V' .... S,!"") 

1821 Columbian College ^^ ''f^'^'f^,' ^ • »! >oo 

1821 Amherst College Amherst, Ma.ss ^^ ^^ 

182.3 Centre College ?r''°7f .'',' rLi, '. l^.""" 

1825, Trinity College Hartford Conn ^^v,„^ 

1835, Hobart Free College )^*^°''u.^' r.. i " . IS.ooO 

1826 Kenyon College ?/''?*""'nh „ '■ ■ ■ ■ H-'WO 

1326 Western Reserve College «,"'^'°"' ? V;;i .... 5,0O0 

1828 Indiana University c ^''?°"Viln ".^Z v Mni.ii.:; "aH .'.■.■ 8,500 

183) Spring Hill College Spring Hill ( neai Mobile), Ala ^.y 

15.31 University of Alabama ^"'"^v^Ti'mk Vi' V .'.'.' 'i>JO 

1831 University of New York Jt'rY.^? / ' 2.5,000 

1831 Wesleyan University P n''':h?r' 1 Vim V:.::..::'. ts OOO 

13.32 Pennsylvania College J^*'"y".V"^% -f 11,000 

18.32 Denison University Granville, Ohio ■■ ^^-^ 

1332, Randolph-Macon College c^Vi tj' toV V,;,i ■jMt' 

13.32; Hanover College South Hanover, Ind •••■ ^./-^^^ 

1832, St. Louis University St. i.ouis, jio ^ ^,^^^^ 

13.32, Lafayette College J'-a.ston, i a.. 11,UOO 

183.3, Wabash College Crawfordsv. lie, Ind _^^,-,„„^ 

1333, Delaware College it? ^^? „' V ' "i" ' W., ' 7,401) 

1333 Haverford College m'^V Ohio ' .V.'.'. V^OOO 

1834 Oberlin College m^:- ,; O,?o '.' 23,500- 

183.5; Marietta College M.arietta, lio ,.V,,j 

18.35, McKendree College Lebanon, lu ]'j.(H1Q 

1836; Franklin and Marshall College Lancaster , 1 enn , .^^ 

1336, Alfred University . .'v ' vi-' i 2.3,000 

13.37, University of Michigan A"° l°J' ini ■.■.■.■.■.■.'.■. 10,0()0 

1S37, Indiana Asbury University i^"^*^""^?, 'xt n 8 (XK) 

1833; AVakeForest College Forestville, N. C •_ ^'g^^ 

1837, Emory (College Vr '"™' Y^V r',' "v.; 9,000 

13,33, Emory and Henry College ^\ ''m f 1 ,1 r'' N C '.'..'..... 6,o00 

1840 Davidson College Me.KUmhuig ( o., iM. U ^^. ^^^^ 

1840, St. .iohn's College i>"'''i i"i" '<■ 9.000 

1340, Mercer University 1 entitia, u.i.. y^ ii^lU 

1840, Georgetown College .. Georgetown, ivy 17,01)0 

1840 St. Xavier's College tin.iiinati, Ohio.. ^^ ,^.|„ 

1842, St James's College \V ashington < "•, "^ • • • j^ oOO 

1312 Ohio Wesleyan University Delaware to., Ohio ..,,,-, 

18P>' Cuiillmrlaiid Univer.sity Lebanon, lenn.. .-.^^^^-^ 

134''' University of Notre Dame du Lac- Notre Dame, Ind l£'.)ii() 

1843; Holy Cross c^ ""'■'^^Ti ni'il; '.'.'.'.'■ 0>iOO 

1845 Wittenberg University, Springheld Ohio ^ -,„, 

1346, Madison University Hamilton, N-> • ,;i,i)() 

1847 St Mary's College \V ilmington, Del ^,f ,^,,3 

1847 Colli'L'e of St. Francis Xavier New \ ork City j,. .,^^ 

1818; College of the City of New York New York, ( ity •• . -p,,^ 

184>i; University of Missis.sippi Oxford, Miss. ,y„jl^ 

1849; Lawrence' University Appleton, M is^ • ■ 5,|.|^,j 

1S50, Rochester Univer.sity Rochester, IN. \.. - gi^^ 

1850; Trinity College Randolph C o., N. C '_ 

* Those containing less than 5,000 volumes are not noticed. 



430 EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 

When No. of 

founded. Name. Location. isolumes. 
1851, Mount St. Mary's of the West Near Cincinnati, Ohio 10,500 

1851, College of Christian Brothers gt. Louis, Mo 6,500 

1852, Lombard University Galesburg, III 5,500 

1853, Roanoke College Salem, Roanoke Co., Va 7,500 

1853, Westminster College Fulton, Mo 5,400 

1854, Tufts College Medford, Mass 10,500 

1854, Kno.x College Galesburgh, 111 6,500 

1855, Northwestern University Evanston, 111 26,500 

1856, St. Lawrence University Canton, N. Y 6,5i 

1856, Seaton Hall College South Orange, N. J 8 800 

1857, Loyola College Baltimore, Md. 25,000 

1867, Washington University St. Louis, Mo 6,50'* 

Santa Clara College Santa Clara, Cal 11.000 

Iowa College Grinnell, Iowa 6,4' 

College of the Immaculate Conception New Orleans, La 6,500 

Louisiana State University Baton Rouge, La 8,4C0 

Wofford College Spartensbui*gh,*S. C 5,600 

1859, Griswold College Davenport, .Iowa 5,400 

1859, St. Benedict's College Atchison, Kansas 12,000 

1860, Augustana College Genesee, 111 7,500 

1861, Vassar College Poughkeepsie, N. Y 7,500 

1862, St. Joseph's College Philadelphia, Pa 6,250 

1863, Boston College Boston, Mass 6,500 

1863, Manhattan College New York City 6,200 

1864, Bates College Lewiston, Me 7,300 

1865, Cornell University Ithaca, N. Y 50,000 

1867, Howard University Washington, D. C 6,500 

THEOLOGICAL SEMINARIES. 

1784, Theological Seminary Reformed Dutch Church. . . . New Brunswick, N. J 10,000 

1791, St. Mary's Theological Seminary Baltimore, Md 10,000 

1808, Andover Theological Seminary Andover, Mass 31 ,000 

1812, Princeton Theological Seminary Princeton, N.J 21 ,000 

1816, Divinity School Cambridge, Mass 16,000 

1816, Bangor Theological Seminary Bangor, Me 12,000 

1817, Episcopal General Theological Seminary New York 14,500 

1820, Hamilton Theological Seminary Hamilton, N. Y 10.000 

1821, Auburn Theological Seminary Auburn, N. Y 6,000 

1821, South- Western Theological Seminary Marysville, Tenn 6,000 

1822, Episcopal Theological School Fairfax Co. , Va 9,500 

1824, Union Theological Seminary Hampden, Sidney, Va 6,000 

Gettysburg Theological Seminary Gettysburg, Penn 12,-500 

1825, Newton Theological Institution Newton, Mass 5,500 

1825, ^V'ittemburK Theological Seminary Gettysburg, Penn 12,500 

1825, German Uefoniicd 'I lieological Seminary Mercersburg, Penn 8,500 

1827, Theologiiiil l(i]i.iitii]cnt Kenyon College Gambier, Ohio 7,500 

1828, Western Tluol<ii.ni;il (Seminary Alleghany, Penn 10,000 

1828, Theological Seminary ^... Columbia, S. C 18,500 

1829, Lane Seminary Cincinnati, Ohio 15,500 

1832, Shurtleff College Theological Department Upper Alton, 111 5,200 

1834, Theological Institute Hartford, Conn 7,500 

1836, Union Theological Seminary New York 31,000 

1838, St. Charles Brunning Theological Seminary Philadelphia, Penn 10,000 

1840, Concordia Seminary ^t. Louis, Mo 5,200 

1844, Western Theological School Meadville, Penn 9,.500 

1844, St. Vincent's College Theological Department Cape Girardeau, Mo 7,000 

1844, Ohio Weslevan Seminary Delaware, Ohio 8,100 

1844, Seminary of St. Mary of the Lake Chicago, III 6,000 

1846, St. Vincent's College Theological Department St. Vincent, Pa 12,000 

1850, Rochester Theological Seminary Rochester, N. Y 13,000 

1851. Mount St. Mary's of the West Near ( incinnati, Ohio 10,000 

1853, Danville Theological Seminary Danville, Ky 8.500 

1859, Soutbc-rn liajitist Theok^ical Seminary Greenville, S. C 5,500 

1859, Th.olotriciil Seminary of the N..W. College Ohicago-lII 8,000 

1859, GriswoM College Theological Department Davenport, Iowa 5,500 

1862, Episcopal Divinity School. IVhiladelphia, Penn 6,500 

1865, Oherlin College Theological Department Oberlin, Ohio 10,500 

1867, Drew Theological Seminary Madison, N.J 11,000 

MEDICAL SCHOOLS AND HOSPITAL. 

1755, Pennsylvania Hospital Library Philadelphia, Penn 11,000 

1765, Medical Department Pennsylvania. University PhilaildpUia, I'enn 6,000 

1791, New York Hospit.-il Libr.ary New York 8,000 

1807, New York ("ollege of Physicians and Surgeons New York 2,000 

1831, University Medical School New York 4.500 

University of Virginia Medical Department 3"i,000 

tAW SCHOOLS AND LIBHAKIES. 

1817, D.ane Ljiw School Cambridge, Mass. 14,000 

1845, New York State and National Law School Poughkeepsie, N. Y ! 3.000 

New York Law Library New York 6,500 

Social Law Library Boston 6,000 

1^02, ) j^„ Associations Philadelphia, Penn 5,0C0 

1859^ Michigan Uniyersity Law Department Ann Arber, Mich 3,000 



LIBRARIES. 431 



PRINCIPAL LIBRARIES OF THE UNITED STATES, EXCLUSIVE OF THOSE CONNECTED WITH COLLEGES, &C. 

When _ ^'o. of 

founded. Name. Location. volume>!. 

1853, San Fnmcisco Meirantile Library San Francisco, Cal 2.5,iii 

1838, Hartford Youuj? Men's Institute Hartford, Conn 22.S35 

1839, Connecticut Historical Society Jo 12,0 U 

1854, Connecticut State Library do 3,'00 

1826, New Haven Young Men's Institute New Haven, Conn 1],(K 

1788, Wilniinjiton Young Men's Association Wilmington, Del 6,189 

1839, Savannah Historical Society Savannali, Ca 7,910 

1831, Indiana State Librarv Indianapolis, Ind 26.(K)0 

183-5, Catholic Diocesan Librarv \ incennes, Ind 12,(00 

1830, Keoliuk Library Association Keokuk, Iowa 6,600 

Dubiuiue Library Dubuiiuc, Iowa 8.0000 

U'xiii.'t.Mi ( ifv Librarv Lexington, Ky 14,600 

1S3S, Lousianri State Librarv l^aton Kouge, La 14,' 00 

1844, Lvcenm "Library .' ^'ew Orleans, ]>a 12,U00 

Mechanics' Librarv do 15,000 

1839, MaineState Library Augusta, Me 31,500 

1867, Sk(nvluL':m Library Skowhegau, Me 2,315 

1827, Mar\l:iiul State Lii)rarv Annapolis, Md 25,000 

1802, BalriiiKiie I'.abodv Institute lialtimore, Md 42,.'188 

1839, Baltiiiion- Mercantile Library do 24,975 

1843, Maryland Historical Society do , '^^a 

1847, Maryland Institute Library do 18,000 

1840, Odd Fellows' Library do 13,000 

1858, Arlington Public Libr.ary Arlington, Mass 2,105 

1867, Barnst.able Sturgis Library liarnstable. Mass 1,845 

1855, Beverly Public Library Beverly, Mass 4,810 

1859, Bolton Public Librarv Bolton, Mass 1,300 

1853, American Congregational Library Boston, Mass i^'^'a « 

1807, Boston Athentcuin do 105,000 

1794, Bnsto:i Library do 19,800 

1791, Massachusetts IIi.storical Society do 18,5(0 

1848, Mattapan Literary A.ssociation do 3,000 

1848, Boston Public City Library do 160,000 

1820, Mercantile Librarv do 21,0( 

1831, Natural llistMrv Society do 13,0()0 

1864, New Chunh Libntrv do 1,.3U0 

1826, Massachusetts State Librarv do 31,.5C0 

1857, Youni; M.ns Christian Association do 5,610 

1867 North I'lid'ewater Nortli Bridgewater, Mass 2,667 

1S64| Lii-htuM llT.lton Library Brighton, Mass 5,108 

1867, Biuokli.ld Merrick Public Library Bruokfield, Mass 2,247 

1857, Brookiine Public Library Brookline, Mass 12.000 

1857, Dana Library Cambridge, Mass 4.800 

1860, Charlestown Public Library Charlestown, Mass 10.9.'5 

1809, Chel.«ea Public Library Chelsea, Mass 2,345 

Cliicopee Public Library Chicopee, Mass 2,800 

Bigelow Library Clinton, Mass 

1851, Concord Public Library Concord, Mass 5,9S4 

1806, Peaboilv Institute Danvers, Mass 

1610, Dcerfield Library Association Deerfield, Mass 2,100 

1^.1, Fall Hiver Public Library Fall Hiver, Mass 6,6c3 

1 <,'J, Fitchburg Public Library Fitchburg, Mass 8,-500 

1?.J5, Kniniingham Public Library FrHmingh.ani. Ma.ss 

1854, L\ ( .11111 Library Gloucester, Mass 3,000 

1855, I'lil.li.- Library Groton, Mass 1,665 

I'll 1. lie Library Harvard, Mass 1,400 

1^''^, I'ublic Library Hinsdale, Mass 2,000 

1-2, I'ulilir Library Lancaster, Mass 4,500 

l-'d, I'ul.lic Library Leicester, Mass 2,953 

I'rauklin Library Lawrence, Mass 5,400 

]-."l, Pa.iiic .Mills Library do 5.60() 

1 -'M, I'lililic- Library Leominster, Mass 4,'i50 

1-7, You 11'.; .Men's Christian Association Lowell, Mass 

LovmU City Library do ^^'3,-^ 

1 ".'pi I, I'uMic Library Lunenburg, Mass 1.-350 

l-iij, I'ulilir Library Lynn, Mass 12,872 

]'■■'■■, I'ul.lir Library Millburv, Mass 1,265 

l-.',7, I'ublic Library Natick, Mass 2,-540 

1^.".-', Public Library New liedford, Mass 23,0'i0 

1 ".4, Free Library Newbury port. Mass 13.600 

1-19, I'ublic Library N,.h ton! .Mass 1,800 

1860, Public Librarv Nortliampton . Mass 5 400 

1854, Peabodv Institute Peabodv , M;iss 14,.300 

1862, Philhps'' Free Public Library Phil lips ton, Ma.ss 2,269 

1850, Pittsfield Jlercantile Library Pittsfield, Miiss 3.600 

1869, Public Library South Reading, Mass 3.300 

18.57, Roxhury Athenaeum Library Roxbury , Ma.ss ^'£'9? 

1810, Salem Athenaeum Library Salem, Mass 13.755 

18-54, Arms Library Shelburne Falls 3,4-37 

I860, Public Librarv Shelborn. Ma.ss 1,500 

1857, Public Library Springfi.-ld, Ma.<is 30,488 

1862, Jackson Library Stockbridge, Mass 4,000 

1858, Public Library Stonehaui, Mass 3,400 

18.52, Public Library Saultborongh, Mass 2,511 

1863, Goodenow Library South Sudbury, Mass 4,284 



432 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



When 
founded. 
lH6t5, 
1865, 
1868, 
1850, 
1867. 
1838; 
1859, 
1857, 
1887, 
1859, 
1856, 
18:0, 
1-!12, 
l"if)5, 
1832, 
1-28, 
1^59, 
1S49, 
1885, 
1816, 
1355, 
1854, 
1S17, 
1^47, 
18 58, 
1818, 

i<m, 

1857, 
1835, 

1820, 
1818, 
1859, 
1820, 
1^39, 
1814, 
l-!30, 
1834, 
1858, 

i=;!7, 

1S35, 
H63, 
18 A 
1843, 
186^, 
1817, 

1864, 
1777, 
1812, 
1814, 
1820, 
1821, 
1731, 
1750, 
1854. 
182i; 
1742, 
1847, 
1807, 
1730, 
1753, 
1814. 
1748. 
lS-)4, 
18:30, 
1823, 
1847, 
1S15, 

1837, 
1789, 

1814, 
1862, 



Name. 



Location. 



No. of 
Tolumes. 
. . 4,395 
. . 6,900 



Public Library Taunton, Mass 

Public Library Waltham, Mass 

Public Library Watertown, Mass 

Public Library Way land, Mass 4,056 

Public Library Westboro, Mass 1,642 

Westfield Athenaeum Library Westfield, Mass 2,200 

Public Library - . . Westford, Mass 1,644 

Public Library Weston, Mass 3,180 

Public Library Winchendon, Mass 1,29a 

Public Library Winchester, Mass 2,200 

Public Library Woburn , Mass „, 'X^ 

Public Library Worcester, Mass l^W n 

American Antiquarian Society ■■ do oi rrlo 

Public Library Detroit, Mich it 'r^r! 

Youug Men's Society do li'XXn 

Michigan State Library Lansing, Mich o'X^q 

Minneapolis Athenaeum Minneapolis, Minn 2,368 

Minnesota Historical Society St. Paul, Minn to'Ioa 

St. Louis Public Library St. Louis, Mo qi'mq 

St. Louis Mercantile Library Association do t'ooA 

Public City Library Concord, N. H iVoaa 

Citv Library Manchester, N. H ivi)^ 

Portsmouth Atheaenum Library Portsmouth, N. II i-'coA 

Newark Library Association Newark, N. J l/,500 

Public Library Newton, N. J nn roA 

New York State Library Albany, N. Y loio? 

Young Jlen's Association do in '^'trt 

Brooklyn Mercantile Library Brooklyn, N. Y To'vIa 

Buffalo Young Men's Association Buffalo, N. Y 18,000 

Grovenor Library do ?-'^^,^ 

Apprentices' Library New York City, N. Y , '' a 

Astor Library do ,n' V,2 

Cooper Union do. . . , : JV' i o 

Mercantile Library do ^S'nFn 

Society Library do , oo'aaa 

New York Historical Society Library do 28,000 

Rochester Athenasum Library Rochester, N. Y 21,000 

Troy Young Men's Association Troy, N. Y 18,6(8 

Public Library Syracuse, N. Y J^'^'o 

Cincinnati Public Library Cincinnati, Ohio 3-3,588 

Mercantile Library do 35,206 

Theological and Religious Library do o^'^^ 

Ohio School Library do ?^*'^9 

Cleveland Library Association Cleveland, Ohio 11,>)00 

Public Library do „ '525 

Ohio State Library Columbus, Ohio „'nr a 

Dayton Public School Library Dayton, Ohio 12,000 

Portland Library Association Portland, Oreg 3,500 

Pennsylvania State Library Harrisburg, Pa 41,0i>0 

Academy of Natural Sciences Philadelphia, Pa 22,580 

Philadelphia Athenieum do }^'^^ 

Mechanics' Library do Ia'aaA 

Mercantile Library do oKon^ 

Philadelphia Library Company do 85,005 

Loganian Library do 

Young Men's Christian Association do o ' <>o 

Apprentice's Library do i q'aaa 

American Philosophical Society do 18,000 

Pittsburg Mercantile Library. . . .' Pittsburg, Pa 10,200 

Newport Public Library Newport, R. I it'?~n 

Redwood Library aud Athenaeum do 18,460 

Providence Athenaeum Providence, R.I 32,444 

South Carolina State Library Columbia, S. C iV'XX? 

Charleston Library Society Charleston, S.C 21,000 

Tennessee State Library Nashville, Tenn Jo' c 

Vermont State Library Montpelicr, Vt 12,265 

Virginia State Library Richmond, Va „' o 

Milwaukee Young Men's A.ssociation Milwaukee, Wis : „ ' a 

Library of Congress Washington, D. C 266,000 

Library of House of Representative's do n^'*^*'? 

Patent Office Library ". do „.<^£,n 

Library of State Department do 20,000 

Library of Treasury Department do i^'^aa 

Washington Library do 'Sa 

Library of Agricultural Department do. . . . : 9,500 



CHAPTER XX. 



LYCEUMS, MECHANICS' INSTITUTES, YOUNG 
MEN'S INSTITUTES, ART UNIONS, ETC. 

The name of Lyceum is one of ancient 
orio-in, having been first bestowed on the 
place where Aristotle gave his instructions, 
from its connection with the temple of 
Apollo Lycius. In more modern times it 



has been applied to schools where the phi- 
losophy of Aristotle was taught, and to in- 
stitutions in which the instruction was given 
mainly by lectures. In 1786 it was given, 
in France, to an institution of the nature of 
a museum, at which daily lectures were de- 
livered by Lallarpe. This was discontinued 
in 1794, in consequence of the French Rev- 
olution. During the present century the 



r 



LYCEUMS, MECHANICS INSTITUTES, YOUNG MEN S INSTITUTES, ART UNIONS, ETC. 433 



name has Lecu jipplied in France to collegi- 
ate schools answeiing very nearly to our col- 
leges or public high schools. 

The Conservatory of Arts and Trades at 
Paris, organized in 1796, by Vaucanson, is 
an example of the higher class of lyceum in 
its more extended sense. It has thirteen 
galleries of materials and machines, and 
courses of lectures, scientific aiul practical, 
which are largely attended during the win- 
ter by the woi-king classes. 

The origination of the lyceum as a means 
of mutual instruction in this country is due, 
in the first instance, to Benjamin Franklin. 
Ills " club for mutual improvement" was 
founded in Philadelphia in 1727, and after 
forty years' existence became the basis of 
the American Philosophical Society, one of 
the highest scientific societies on this conti- 
nent. There may have been, and probably 
were, other societies for mutual improve- 
ment organized in dilTerent towns and cities 
of the countiT, during the hundred years 
tliat followed the organization of Franklin's 
clul> ; but there are no records of any such 
in the possession of the public, previous to 
1824, when Timothy Claxton, an English 
mechanic, succeeded in foiuiding one, or 
rather in modifying a reading society, whicli 
had been in existence for five years, into 
what was reall}' a lyceum, in the village of 
Methucn, Mass. Its exercises were weekl}', 
and in the following order: the first week, 
reading bv all the members ; the second 
week, reading by one member selected for 
the purpose ; the third week, an original 
lecture; the fourth week, discussion. In 
1820, Mr. Josiah Holbrook, then of Derby, 
Conn., commimicated to the American Jour- 
nal of Edncation, then conducted by Mr. 
William Russell, his views on the subject of 
" AsHoriafioiiti of Adults for the Purpose of 
Mutual Education^'' in which were contain- 
ed the germs of the plan of the Lyceum, as 
subsequently developed by him in his lect- 
ures an<l publications. From the first, his 
views were of wider scope than the organiza- 
tion of a mei'e local association ; they com- 
prehended the establishment of such associ- 
ations in every town and village, and their 
union, by representation, in county, state, 
and national organizations. They contem- 
plated also, not only mutual instruction in 
the sciences, but the establishment of insti- 
tutions for the education of youth in science, 
art, and morals; the collection of libraries, 
and of cabinets of minerals and other arti- 
26 * 



cles of natural or artificial production, to be 
increased and eidarged by mutual exchanges, 
by the ditferent associations. Lectures and 
practical agiicultural occupation, the results 
of which, it was supposed, would materially 
diminish the cost of instruction, also formed 
a part of his programme. 

Till! first association formed in accordance 
with this plan was organized at Millbury, 
Mass., by Mr. Ilolbrook himself, in Novem- 
ber of the same year, and was called " Mill- 
bury Lyceum, No. 1, Branch of the Amer- 
ican Lyceum." Other towns soon after or- 
ganized lyceums, and these were combined a 
few months later into the Worcester County 
Lyceum. Not long after, the AVindham 
County, Conn., Lyceum, with its constituent 
town lyceums, was established ; Rev. Samuel 
J. May, then of Brooklyn, Coini., rendering 
valuable assistance in the work. 

From this time onward to his death in 
1854, Mr. Ilolbrook devoted his whole ener- 
gies in one way and another to the promo- 
tion of these institutions, and to such meas- 
ures in connection with the cause of educa- 
tion as should promote mutual instruction 
in children as well as adults. By scientific 
tracts, by newspapers and other publications, 
by the manutacture of school apparatus, and 
by the collection of small cabinets of miner- 
als, to serve as nuclei for larger cabinets, by 
scholars' fairs, by lectures, and long journeys, 
and by appeals to the members of Congress 
and of the state legislatures, he succeeded in 
rousing a powerful and continued interest in 
the subject of mutual instruction, which, if 
it did not accomplish all his own })lans, at 
least gave a wonderful impulse to the general 
intellectual culture of the nation. The ly- 
ceums he founded have passed away, at least 
in their original form, but in their places, and 
in a great measure as an indirect result of his 
labors, we have in every considerable town 
or village debating societies, young men's in- 
stitutes, mechanics' institutes, library associ- 
ations — the three latter often with circulat- 
ing libraries, courses of lectures, and classes 
for instruction in science, art, and languages, 
and often with schools attached for the in- 
struction of the children of the members. 
We have also lecture foundations, either 
connected with our colleges or professional 
schools, or independent, in which courses of 
instruction in physical science, history, liter- 
ature, or the laws of language, are communi- 
cated to ])opular audiences. 

In rendering the scientific lecture a popu- 



434 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



lar institution, our country is greatly indebt- 
ed to the late John Griscom, LL.D., Prof. B. 
Silliman, Sr., and Rov. ITenry Wilbur. Dr. 
Griscom delivered Iiis first course of popular 
lectures on chemistry in New York city in 
the winter of 1808; they were largely at- 
tended, and were continued for a long series 
of years. Prof. Silliman commenced popu- 
lar lecturing on the same subject in New 
Haven about the same time, in connection 
with his professional courses. He subse- 
quently delivered popular courses of lectures 
on chemistry and on geology in most of the 
large cities of the country. Within the last 
fifteen or twenty years. Prof. Edward Hitch- 
cock, of Amherst College, and several other 
eminent geologists, have given courses on 
geology to popular audiences. Prof. Guyot 
has lectured on physical geography; Messrs. 
Mann, Barnard, Page and others, on educa- 
tional topics ; Hon. George P. Marsh on 
languntce ; Professor Lieber and others on 
commerce, and other prominent scholars 
on other subjects. The Lowell Institute at 
Boston, founded by the munificence of the 
Hon. J. A. Lowell, gives annually free courses 
of lectures to large audiences on the most 
important branches of moral, intellectual, and 
physical science, and from the liberality of 
its compensation to the lecturers, induces 
elaborate and conscientious preparation on 
their part, and tl>e benefit of this preparation 
inures also to other audiences, to which these 
lectures are repeated. It has imfortunately 
been the custom for a few years past of the 
young men's institutes, mercantile library 
associations, and other institutions giving 
courses of lectures through the winter sea- 
son, to select lecturers Avho would amuse 
rather than instruct their audiences, and 
hence this mode of public instruction has 
become gradually less and less efficient, and 
the chief advantages resulting from these in- 
stitutions have been the use of their circu- 
lating libraries, and their classes of instruc- 
tion and debate, A revolution, however, is 
now gradually taking place in this respect; 
lectures on physical science are more fre- 
quently incorporated in the courses, and the 
highest talent is employed in the illustration 
of these sciences. The lectures of Profes- 
sors Doremus, Draper, and Silliman, jr., on 
chemistry; of Mitchel, Youmans, and Loom- 
is on astronomy, and of Agassiz, Ilcnry, and 
others on geology, have uniformly attracted 
large audiences, and have led to the study 
of these sciences. 



The Smithsonian Institution, which com- 
bines some of the features of the lyceum, in 
its public lectures, classes, and museum, with 
its other objects, will be spoken of at length 
in another place. Its influence in promoting 
scientific research has been widely felt. 

One of the noblest enterprises connected 
with this class of institutions is the Cooper 
Union of New York city. The founder with 
princely liberality has erected an immense 
building, occupying an entire block, of the 
most substantial character. A portion of 
this building is rented, and the proceeds of 
the rental go to sustain a free reading-room 
as extensive as any in the country, a pictui'e 
gallery, a library, schools of design for male 
and female pupils, and classes for instruction 
in sciences, the mechanic arts, and languages, 
all of which have rooms and instruction free, 
under the most competent teachers. Courses 
of lectures on scientific subjects for the work- 
ing classes also form a part of the plan of Mr. 
Cooper. 

Mr. Geoi'ge Peabody has also made a most 
libei'al endowment, amounting in all to about 
$600,000, for an institution at Baltimore, to 
include a public library, courses of lectures 
on science, art, and literature, prizes for schol- 
arship in the high schools, an academy of 
music, and a gallery of art. 

The number of institutions coming under 
the general head of lyceiims in the United 
States, is very great ; throughout the North- 
ei'n states every city and every considerable 
town has some organization of the kind, all 
of them having their courses of lectures, and 
most of tliem debates, essays, readings, or 
classes of instruction. To them is attribu- 
table in no inconsiderable degree the very 
general prevalence of oratorical talent in our 
country, and that ability for impromi)tu argu- 
ment and discussion, the faculty of " thinking 
on our legs," as an E]nglish writer not inapt- 
ly terms it. While much of the instruction 
communicated by lectures must necessarily 
be superficial, and is often wanting in accu- 
racy, it cannot be denied that they have con- 
tributed much to the diffusion of general in- 
formation and culture. 



CHAPTER XXL 

INSTITUTIONS FOR THE INSTRUCTION OP 
THE DEAF AND DUMB. 

The capacity of the deaf-mute to receive 
instruction was not generally acknowledged 



INSTITUTIOyS FOR THE INSTRUCTION OF THE DEAF AND DUMB. 



■435 



anywhere till the latter part of the last cen- 
tury. Individual instances of education of 
those laboring under this intirnuty had in- 
deed occurred as early as the middle of the 
16th century, and perhaps even at a still 
earlier date, but no considerable attempts 
had been made to instruct them previous 
to the efforts of Pereira, Ilcinicke, Dc 
TEpee, and Braidwood, all of whom taught 
deaf and dumb pupils, between 1 742 and 
1760. Of these, Ileinicke and De I'Epec 
alone are deserving of the honor of being 
reckoned the founders of a great philan- 
thropic movement. The former attempted 
the instruction of deaf-mutes by teaching 
them to articulate ; the latter by the manual 
alphabet, and a development of the natural 
language of signs. I)e TEpce's processes 
were gi^eatly improved by the Abbe Sicard, 
and Bebian, a pupil of Sicai'd. 

Deaf-mute instruction was not attempted 
in this country till about the year 1816. 
In a few instances children of wealthy 
parents, suffering under this infirmity, had 
been sent to England for instruction by the 
Braidwoods, father and sons, who held in 
their own family the monopoly of deaf- 
mute teaching, though adopting substan- 
tially the processes of Ileinicke, and who 
charged a very high price for the education 
of each pupil. The father of one of these 
American j)upils, in a work entitled " Vox 
ocidi< A'M7yVc/a,'' published in 1783, lauded 
in high terms the instruction of the Messrs. 
Braidwood. 

In 1814, Rev. Thomas H. Gallaudet, a 
young clergyman of Hartford, Conn., be- 
came deeply interested in the case of Alice 
Cogswell, the little daughter of Dr. M, F. 
Cogswell, a neighbor of his, who had lost 
her hearing in infancy, and having devoted 
much thought and investigation to the sub- 
ject of the number and condition of the 
deaf-mutes of that state, was desirous of 
doing something for their education. Dr. 
Cogswell and other benevolent gentlemen 
in Hartford furnished the means of send- 
ing him to England, to learn the art of 
teaching deaf-mutes, and he sailed from 
New York for Liverpool, May 25, 1815. I 
Arrived in England he found the elder 
Braidwood dead, and the mother, sons, and 
other relatives, who had now established 1 
three schools, unwilling to enlighten him as 
to their processes, unless he would pay 
1500 dollars, remain a year as an assistant 
in one of their schools, and take the grand- ; 



son of the first Braidwood, a drunken vaga- 
bond, as a partner in the institution to be 
established in America. Itejecting these 
terms, as unworthy of the pioneers in a 
great benevolent enterprise, Mr. Gallaudet 
had almost determined to return home, 
when he met the Abbe Sicard in London, 
and was most cordially invited by him to 
come to Palis and accpiire his methods of 
teaching, recei\ ing from him the necessary 
pii\atc instructions to enable him t(^ accom- 
plish this object more rapidly. This gen- 
erous offer was promptly accepted by Mr. 
Gallaudet, and after three months of close 
application he returned to America, bring- 
ing with him M. Laurent Clerc, an educated 
deaf-nnite, and one of Sicard's most success- 
ful teachers. It was now determined to es- 
tablish a school for deaf-mute instruction, as 
soon as the necessar}' fimds could be obtain- 
ed. For this purpose, Messrs. Gallaudet and 
Clerc travelled extensively through the East- 
ern and Middle states, everywhere receiving a 
warm welcome. In the spring of 1817, about 
$12,000 had been contributed and pledged, 
to which the Connecticut legislature subse- 
quently added $5000 more.* 

The school was opened in rented buildings, 
April 15, 1817, having been chartered m 
May, 1816, by the legislature under the name 
of "Ihe Connecticut Asylum for the Deaf 
and Dumb." An application was made to 
Congress for a grant, as it was supposed, in 
the geneial ignorance concerning the num- 
ber of deaf-mutes, that one asylum would be 
sufficient for the whole country, and that 
body donated a township of land in Ala- 
bama, which, under wise and careful man- 
agement, has produced a fund of over $800,- 
000, the interest of which is applied to the 
reduction of the annual expenses of the in- 
stitution, and enables the directors to fur- 
nish board and tuition to their pupils at the 
low price of $100 per annum. After the 
reception of this grant, the name of the in- 
stitution was changed to "The American 
Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb." 

Thomas Braidwood, the grandson of the 
founder of the first English school for deaf- 
mutes, to whom we have already referred, 
had come to Virginia as early as 1811, aud 
had attempted to establish there a school 
for the deaf and dumb, but his habits were 



* This sum was a few years later expended by 
the Asylum in llio education of indigent deat'-mutea 
natives of Couuecticut. 



436 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



such that all the assistance otfeied hira was 
of no avail, and after a time he returned to 
England ; Mr. Gallaudet's efforts incited the 
family to make another trial, bnt he was so 
thoroughly a vagabond, that it again proved 
unsuccessful. M. Gard, a teacher of deaf- 
iiTiutes at Bordeaux, tuid himself a deaf-mute, 
also offered to come to New York, in 1816, 
and establish an institution there, on the 
plan of Sicard, but the project fell through. 

Meantime, philanthropic persons in New 
York city were desirous of establishing an 
institution for the benefit of the deaf-mutes 
of the city and state, and an act of incor- 
poration for such an institution was passed 
on the 15th of Api'il, 1817, the same day 
that the school at IIartfe)rd was opened. 
Among the most active promoters of this 
enterprise were Dr. Samuel Akerly, Dr. 
Samuel L. Mitchill, De Witt Clinton, Sil- 
vauus Miller, Peter Sharpe, and Rev. James 
Milnor, D.D. 

The course of the American Asylum at 
Hartford was prosperous from the tiist. Mr. 
Gallaudct was a man of genius, and pos- 
sessed the ability to originate and carry into 
effect new methods of instruction, and to 
modify the processes in use in the French 
schools. In these measures he was efficient- 
ly seconded by M. Clerc, and by a corps of 
young but able teachers whom he had gath- 
ered around him, and imbued with his spirit. 
Prominent among these teachers were Messrs. 
William C. Woodbridge, Lewis Weld, Har- 
vey P. Pcct, Isaac Orr, and W^illiara W. 
Turner 

The New York Asylum had adverse for- 
tunes to contend with at first. It was open- 
ed in May, 1818. Its first principal was 
Rev. A. 6. Stausbury, who had been for a 
few months previous the steward of the 
American Asylum, and was but imperfectly 
qualified for his duties ; the greater part of 
the puj>ils were day scholars, and attended 
iri-cgulaiiy ; the assistant teachers were half- 
educated deaf-mutes ; an attempt was made 
to teach articulation, but it proved a failure. 
Mr. Loofborrow, who succeeded Mr. Stans- 
bury in 1821, possessed intelligence and en- 
ergy, but he had few competent assistants, 
and the state legislature which had made ap- 
propriations for the support of deaf-mute 
pupils, was becoming dissatisfied with the 
condition of the institution, as compared 
with those at Hartford and Philadelphia. 
In 1830, an entire change was effected. The 
asylum was located on Fiftieth street, where 



buildings were erected for it ; day scholars 
were no longer admitted ; the inefficient 
teachers were dismissed, and Mr. Harvey P. 
Peet, then one of the ablest of the teachers 
in the American Asylum, elected principal. 
Mr. Peet entered upon his duties in Febru- 
ary, 1831, and though at first compelled to 
peiform all classes of duties, his genius, 
tact, and indefatigable labor soon brought 
oi-der out of chaos, and enabled him to 
place the institution in the very first rank. 
In 1853, the property of the institution on 
Fiftieth street was sold, the buildings being 
too small for the accommodation of their 
pupils, and being subject to encroachment 
from the rapid increase of population in 
their vicinity. A new location, comprising 
37 acres, was purchased on Washington 
Heights, about nine miles from the City 
Ilall, and overlooking the Hudson river. 
On this site a magnificent building has been 
erected, much the finest and mc-)st perfect in 
its arrangements of any asylum for deaf- 
mutes in the Avorld. It has cost, including 
the grounds, nearly $600,000, and will ac- 
commodate about 500 pupils. Mr. (now 
Dr.) Peet is still at the head of it, and his 
eldest son, Mr. Isaac Lewis Peet, is the effi- 
cient vice principal. 

The Pennsylvania Institution was founded 
at Philadelphia in 1820, by David Seixas 
and Mr. Lewis Weld, one of the teachers at 
the American Asylum, liecame its principal 
in 1822. In 1830, Mr. Gallaudet resigned 
the charge of the American Asylum, and Mr. 
Weld was elected his successor, and was fol- 
lowed at Phihulelphia by Mr. Abraham B. 
Hutton, who had been one of the teachers of 
the institution. This school has enjoyed 
continuous prosperity. The Kentucky School 
is located at Danville, and was founded in 
1823. Mr. J. A. Jacobs, who is still at its 
ht ad, was its first, and has been its only prin- 
cipal. He, too, had previously been a 
teacher at the American Asylum. It has 
a moderate endowment arising from the sale 
of lands granted to it by Congress. The 
Ohio Institution was established in 1829, 
and has had three principals — Messrs. Ilub- 
bell, Cary, and Stone. The first and last 
were from Hartford, the second from the 
New York Institution. The Virginia Insti- 
tution, organized at Staunton, was the first 
in this country which combined the instruc- 
tion of deaf-mutes and the blind in one in- 
stitution. Such a combination is not un- 
common in Europe, and five other asylums 



ALPHABET OF THE DEAF AND DUMB. 

b c d e 



























& 




TNSTITUTIONS FOR THE INSTRUCTION OF THE DEAF AND DUMB. 



437 





i-J^^- 






.11^ 







a- 



AMEKICAN ASYLUM FOK DEAF AND DUMB, HARTFOKD, CONN. 



have followed the example in this country. 
Tlic best authorities, however, regard the 
plan as ol>joctionable in many respects. 

The other institutions for the instruction 
of deaf-nmtes (there are in all twenty-three) 
have been organized since 1844. Most of 
them -are state institutions, and though gen- 
erally well managed, partisan politics have, 
in some instances, materially impaired their 
efficiency and usefulness. 

Provision has been made, in nearly all the 
states, for the education of the indigent deaf 
and dumb, so that no person of suitable 
age, suffering from this infinnity, need go 
un instructed, if they, or their friends, will 
ap{)ly to the state authorities ; yet of the 
nearly 3000 deaf-mutes of school age in the 
United States, but about 2000 are under 
instruction. The greatest deficiency, how- 
ever, is in the new states, and will be reme- 
died in the course of a few years. 

The term of instruction varies from six to 
ten years. Seven years is the usual term in 
most of the states; but in the American 
Asylum, the New York Institution, and, we 
believe, the Pennsylvania Institution, a high 
class has been established, into which those 
who give evidence of superior abilities, and 
desire for higher scholarship, are admitted 
by examination, and pursue an additional 
course of three years. The course of study, 
including this period of three years, em- 



braces the topics of a very thorough Eng- 
lish and mathematical education. Other lan- 
guages than English are not usually taught. 
From these classes most of the deaf-mute 
teachers are now drawn. 

The intellectual and moral condition of 
uninstrnctcd deaf-mutes is one of extreme, 
almost rayless ignorance. Careful inquiry in 
some thousands of cases has demonstrated 
that, unless communicated by friends versed 
to some extent in the language of signs, 
they have no idea of a Supreme Being, of 
the origin of the objects of nature, of their 
own possession of a soul, of death, or a 
future existence. The mind is almost a 
blank, and the few thoughts they possess 
are merely such as concern their food, drink, 
and rest, and the objcscts with which they 
are constantly brought in contact. It is ob- 
vious, then, that the mental condition of a 
child of ten or twelve years of age, deaf from 
birth, and consequently dumb, is below that 
of a child of three years who can hear and 
speak. The child who possesses all its fac- 
ulties has, before entering school, acquired 
a very considerable fund of ideas, and the 
words for their intelligent expression ; so 
that the teacher has comparatively little oc- 
casion to communicate ideas to him, except 
on topics connected with his studies, and 
these he can clothe in words which the child 
already understands. 



438 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



In the case of tlie deaf-mute, on the other 
band ideas, even on many coniniun and 
simple subjects, must be first communicated 
to him, and that not in words, for as yet 
these arc entirely incomprehensible, but in 
the language of pantomime and gesture. 
He is next to be made to comprehend the 
laws of construction and connect words, 
either written, or spelled by the manual al- 
pliabet, with the ideas already acquired (a 
long and painful process.) and then, through 
tlie two media of words and signs, to be 
taught the elements of science. 

The system of Heinicke and the Braid- 
woods, a system still, with some modifica- 
tions, taught in Germany and some other 
European " countries, had for its basis the 
dogma that ideas could onl}' be expressed 
or communicated by means of words; and 
hence with great difficulty and pains, even 
in the flexible German tongue, the deaf-mute 
was taught to articulate words, whose mean- 
ings he did not understand, and then, as step 
by step he connected ideas with the simplest 
of them, these were made the means of con- 
veying to him the meaning of those more 
abstract and difficult. In this way three or 
four years were consumed before the pupil 
was prepared to acquire the facts of sci- 
ence, or the knowledge of his moral obli- 
gations. 

The plan of De I'Ep^e, modified by Si- 
card and Bebian, had little in common with 
that of Heinicke. Their fundamental prin- 
ciple was, that "words have no natural or 
necessary connection with the ideas of which 
they are the signs, and that in the natural 
language of signs or pantomime, improved 
and enlarged as it can be, there is a com- 
plete substitute for them." No attempt was 
made at teaching articulation, but words 
Avere taught by means of signs, and these 
once acquired, were made the medium of 
further instruction by ordinary text-books. 
In order to teach words more readily, M. 
Sicard introduced what he denominated 
methodical aiyns, that is, a peculiar gesture 
for each word, which the pupil was taught. 
]t is obvious that if the vocabulary of the 
deaf-mute was to be as large as that of ordi- 
nary intelligent speaking persons, the num- 
ber of these arbitrary signs (for it is to be un- 
derstood that these difi'ered almost as much 
from the ordinary signs as the latter from 
words, the natural signs representing ideas, 
and the metliodical signs single words) nuist 
be very great, some thousands at least, and 



to retain them in memory was a very fa- 
tiguing task for both pupil and teacher. 

The American system of instruction of 
deaf mutes difiers materially from both the 
preceding, and this dift'erence originated 
partly with Mr. Gallaudet and the teachers 
trained up under him, and is partly the re- 
sult of the experience and observation of the 
eminent teachei's who have been, and still 
are, engaged in deaf-mute instruction. 

In establishing the American Asylum, 
Mr. Gallaudet combined the principle of 
Heinicke, of the connection of ideas with 
words, with that of De I'Epee, that the nat- 
ural language of signs must be elevated to as 
high a degree of excellence as possible in or- 
der to serve as the medium for giving the 
ideas clearly and explaining them accurately; 
but he added to thi-se another which had nev- 
er before been applied to deaf-mute instruc- 
tion, viz., that the process of learning words 
might be greatly facilitated by leading the 
pupils to reflect on their own sensations, 
ideas, and mental processes. With the earli- 
est lessons he imparted in the names of sensi- 
ble objects, he was accustomed to endeavor to 
open commnnication with them, t>y means of 
the sign-language, in regard to the feelings and 
emotions excited by these objects, and, if 
possible, to connect them with something in 
the pupil's past experience. From this, the 
deaf mute was naturally led on to think of 
the feelings and emotions of others, thence, 
by a natural transition, to the idea of God as 
a Creator and benefactor, and finally to a 
knowledge of his law, and the final destiny 
of man. The result of this has been that 
pupils in this country (for this plan has been 
generally adopted in our American institu- 
tions) are made acquainted with the simple 
truths of religion and morality in one year, a 
period in which, in the European institutions, 
they have scarcely advanced beyond the 
knowledge of sounds and the names of sen- 
sible objects, qualities, and actions, or the 
most common phrases. Apart from the high 
religious importance of this process, it brings 
moral motives to bear earlier, and renders 
the government of the pupils easier, while it 
aids lUem in the fi)rmati(>n of correct habits. 
The conducting of the daily and weekly de- 
votional exercises in the sign-language was 
another peculiarity introduced by Mr. Gallau- 
det. 

Methodical signs were used to a consider- 
able extent by Mr. Gallaudet and the earlier 
instructors of American institutions, but were 



INSTITUTIONS FOR THE INSTRUCTION OF THE BLIND. 



439 



not regarded as so indispensable by them as 
by the French teachers. Of late years thoy 
are less einjtloyed than formerly, and are 
made to indicate phrases rather than words, 
while the manual alphabet is regarded as of 
more value in teaching than it was thirty 
years ago. An advance has also been made, 
of great importance, by the introduction, 
by Mr. T. Lewis Peet, of the New York 
Institution, of manual and written symbols 
for those ultimate constituents of the sen- 
tence which form so considerable a portion 
of spoken and written language. By this 
means written language is taught with mucli 
greater facility than formerly. The establish- 
ment of high classes has also been an impor- 
tant step in the progress of deaf-mute educa- 
tion, furnishing, as it does, the deaf and dumb 
the opportunity of attaining to as high intel- 
lectual culture as those enjoy who are in the 
possession of all their faculties. 

In 18511, the number of deaf-mutes in the 
United States wiis 9803, or one in '2345. 

Some of the educated deaf and dumb in 
this country have attained to considerabh; 
distinction. Laurent Clerc, the companion 
of Gallaudet, belongs by his birth and educa- 
tion rather to France than America, yet he 
has passed more than forty years in this 
country, and though now retired in a health 
ful and happy old age, from active duty, is 
deservedly esteemed and honored. Thomas 
Brown, the President of the American Asso- 
ciation of Deaf-Mutes, is a vigorous and able 
writer, as are also John T. Burnett and James 
Nack. The latter has distinguished himself 
as a poet of no mean ability, and the former 
has been a frequent and welcome contributor 
to several of our ablest reviews. Mrs. Mary 
Toles Peet, the wife of the accomplished 
vice principal of the New York Institution, 
though young, is entitled to a very high rank 
among the most gifted of our female poets. 
Colonel David j\L Phillips, of New Orleans, 
in spite of his infirmity, was for many years 
one of the most accomplished military ofKcers 
of the South, John Carlin, as an artist, and 
Albert Newsam, as an engraver, have few su- 
periors in their respective professions. The 
monument to Mr. Gallaudet, designed by the 
former and engraved by the latter, is one of 
the most admirable and appropriate monu- 
mental structures. Mr. Levi S. Backus was 
for several vears the able and successful man- 
ager of a jieriodical in central New York. 

We present a table of tlu; <lcaf and dumb 
institutions of the country, with their statis- 



tics to the present year (1860). There is 
also a deaf-mute institution in California, 
and one erecting at Faribault, Minnesota. 



• CHAPTER XXIL 

INSTITUTIONS FOR THE INSTRUCTION OF 
THE BLIND. 

The instruction of the blind had never 
been attempted on any considerable scale, in 
any part of the world, till Valentin llaiiy, in 
1 784, commenced in Paris, France, his school 
for blind pupils. Individuals who were blind 
had indeed educated themselves by the as- 
sistance of friends; but the great majority of 
those who suffered from this afHiition were 
left to a life of dependence and depression, 
and often became beggars'. The efforts of 
Haiiy, and his invention of an embossed al- 
phabet, to enable the blind to read, led to 
the foimdation of a school for the blin<l, sup- 
ported by the French government, in ]791, 
and to the organization of similar schools in 
England, Prussia, Austria, and Russia about 
the same period. In these schools, reading 
and music, and some of the simpler mechanic 
arts, such as knitting, mat-weaving, basket- 
making, etc., were taught. 

The first attempts to establish schools for 
the blind in this country were made about 
1830. Dr. J. D. Fisher, in 1829, obtained 
an act of incorporation for an institution for 
the instruction of the blind from the Massa- 
chusetts legislature, and in 1831 Dr. Samuel 
Akerley and Mr. Samuel Wood, a benevo- 
lent merchant in New York, in conjunction 
with some other gentlemen, made an appli- 
cation to the New York legislature for a sim- 
ilar act, which was granted. Soon after this 
movement was made. Dr. John D. Russ, who 
had just returned from a mission to Greece, 
whither he had borne the contributions of 
American citizens to the Suffering Greeks, , 
and who on his way home had visited some 
of the European blind institutions, identified 
himself with it, and eventually became the 
principal of the school for the blind in New 
York city, which was established in 1832, 
under the charter already named. 

In Boston, Dr. Samuel G. Howe, v.ho had 
also been actively engaged in the cause of 
the Greeks, and who, like Dr. Russ, had 
visited the European institutions for the 
blind, entered with great zeal upiMi the work 
of establishing a school for their instruction, 



440 



EDUCATIOM ANfD ED.UCATIOKAL iNSTITtTIONg. 









PENNSYLVANIA ASl'LUM Foil THE ULINU. 



and made a begiiniing, we believe, under Dr. 
Fishers charter, in 1832. The liberal gift, 
by Colonel T. II. Perkins, of his valuable 
maiision house in Pearl street, Boston, to 
this school, on condition of the raising of 
$50,0OU by the public, soon secured to the 
institution a liberal endowment. 

The year succeeding, an institution for the 
blind was established in Phihidelphia through 
the efforts of Messrs. Roberts, Vaux, and 
others, at the head of which was placed an 
intelligent and philanthropic Prussian, Mr. 
Julius Friedlander, who had been engaged 
in teaching the blind at Berlin, under the 
celebrated Zeune. 

The first efforts of the American instriict- 
ore of the blind were devoted to the improve- 
ment of the alphabet of raised letters, used in 
j)rintiiig f jr the blind, with a view to the prep- 
aration of books for them. There were con- 
siderable difiicultics to be overcome in the 
accomplishment of this work ; the letters 
must have salient angles; each letter must 
differ suflicicntly from every other to be 
easily recognized by the touch ; yet the size 
of the letters must be small, or the books 
printed for the blind would be too cumbrous 
and expensive. The f jrms of letters used in 
Europe diil not answer these i-cqnirements 
satisfactorily. Hauy's type, if well embossed, 
could be read with tolerable facility, but it 



was much too large, and its size could not 
be reduced without impai:ing its legibility ; 
Guillie's was not legible at all ; Gall's varied 
too much from the ordinary form of letter to 
be desirable, and the other attempts at unit- 
ing the requisite qualities failed. Each of the 
three American superintendents devoted his 
leisure to the work. Mr. Friedlander devised 
an alphabet, known in England as the Allston 
or Sans-sei'if Alphabet, neat in form and eas- 
ily read, but somewhat too lai-ge. Dr. Russ 
invented one combining the advantages of 
Gall's triangular alphabet with the lUyiian 
letter, and Avith characters to make it pho- 
netic, but it was somewhat defective in legi- 
bility ; and Dr. Howe, after repeated trials, 
constructed what is now known as the Bos- 
ton letter, which in size, distinctness, and leg- 
il)ility so far surpassed every pre\ ions effort, 
that it has now come into general use in Eu- 
rope and America. Two other subjects in- 
terested these American pioneers in the work 
of instructing the blind : the recognition by 
the state legislatures of the right of blind 
youth to the advantages of an education, and 
the extension of the course of study so far as 
to give their pupils a good English education, 
instructing them, at the same time, in such 
mechanic arts as might enable them to sup- 
port themselves after leaving the institution. 
At the time of the organization of these 



INSTITUTIONS FOR THE INSTRUCTION OK THE BLIND. 



441 



schools, the institutions for the Wind in 
Great Britain, and most of those on the con- 
tinent of Europe, tauglit nothing hut roiiding 
and the mechanic arts, except in the case of 
those who possessed musical talents, who re- 
ceived such instructions in music as would 
enable them to play upon, the piano or organ, 
and to sing; hut the ordinary branches of 
elementary education w'cre entirely neglected. 
The American superintendents determined 
that their ]iui ils should receive a good com- 
mon-school education, and if possible some- 
tliing beyond this, and they have succeeded. 
The peril :d cf instruction varies in the insti- 
tutions for the blind in the United States 
from live to eight years. In the larger and 
older institutions it is usually eight years, 
and includes a course of mathematics and 
belles-lettres as extensive as that in most of 
the colleges in the country, and a thorougli 
course of musical training, both vocal and 
instrumental. The languages are not usual- 
ly tauglit. There are now twenty-four of 
these institutions in the ITnited States. The 
Ohio Institution at Columbus was founded 
in 1837, and that of Virginia at Staunton in 
1 839 ; the others have all been organized since 
1842. To all these establishments there arc 
attached woi'k-rooms, in which the pu])ils are 
cjnployed in the manufacture of mattresses, 
nuits, baskets, paper boxes, brooms, brushes, 
or the simpler articles of cabinet work. 

To many of the blind, music furnishes 
not only a recreation but a means of sup- 
port. Their ear, long trained to the dis- 
eruninatiou of sounds, and their touch, ren- 
dered delicate by the acquisition of the art 
of reading, give them peculiar facilities for 
the attaimuent of musical skill ; and the con- 
centration of their minds upon it, undis- 
turbed by observation of what is passing 
around them, adds to their advantages. It 
is not, therefore, remarkable, that many of 
them should have attained to great eminence 
in musical science. The Pennsylvania In- 
stitution has been specially remarkable for 
the musical attainments of its pupils. Its 
weekly concerts are attended by from 1200 
to 1500 of the music-loving inhabitants of 
that city, and the receipts from these con- 
certs furnish a liberal fund to aid the poorer 
graduates in commencing an independent 
life. Many of these j)Upils find speedy and 
remunerative employment as organists, choir 
singers, members of orchestras or bands, or 
piano-teachers and tuners. 

The great cost of printing books for the 



blind has rendered the supply scanty and 
the number of books small. The American 
l>ible Society has printed an edition of the 
Scriptures in the Boston letter, and grants 
are made fnuu time to time to institutions 
for the blind. The American Tract Society 
has also printed a few of its smaller books 
in the same letter. Aside from these, there 
are not inore than fifty works printed for 
the blind in England and America, except a 
few in arbitrary characters, which of course 
are of no general value. Among these fifty 
is a cyclopedia to he completed in twenty 
volumes, but of which oidy eight or nine 
have yet been issued. Repeated applica- 
tions have been made to the general govern- 
ment to nudce an appropriation either of 
money or lands, to furnish a fund iov the es- 
tablishment of a press for the blind, but the 
bills reported have always been defeated. 
Within the past year a "Printing House for 
the Blind" has been established at Louis- 
ville, Kentucky, endowed in part by pri- 
vate benefactions, and in part by appropria- 
tions from the several states., Its managers 
propose to go on in the manufacture of 
books for the blind, using the Boston letter, 
and making grants to the blind of each state 
in a ratio corresponding to the amount con- 
tributed by that state. 

Owing in part to this paucity of hooks 
the educated blind seldom use the books 
in the raised letter subsequent to their grad- 
uation, except the Scriptures, but depend 
mostly upon the reading aloud of others for 
their in^'ormatioii and instruction. 

Writing has always been a difficult and 
irksome task to the blind; and various de- 
vices have been proposed to facilitate this 
labor, but hardly any of them have proved 
satisfactory. The plan adopted by the late 
William II. Prescott of using a frame of 
wires over the paper, enabled them to 
write in straight lines, but no corrections 
could be made, nor could the scribe read 
what he had written. The use of iidcs 
which would leave an elevated surface has 
been tried, but without much satisfaction ; 
small printing machines have also been used, 
but are not convenient. 

Within a few years past another process 
has been introduced, which, despite the ap- 
parent objections to it, proves far more 
serviceable and convenient than any other 
yet devised. By this invention, known 
as "Braille's system," from its invcnt(jr, M. 
Louis Bruillc, a Prench teacher of the bUud, 



442 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



they are soon enabled to read and write 
Avith great facility, and by the addition of a 
single character, music can be pi'intcd or 
Copied by the blind far more readily than a 
seeing person can do it in the ordinary "\vay. 
The jilan is based upon a series of funda- 
mental signs, comprising the first ten letters 
of the alphabet; none of these consist of 
less than two nor more than four dots. A 
second series is formed by placing one dot 
at the left of each fundjimental sign ; a third 
by placing two dots under each sign ; a foui'th 
by placing one dot under the right of each. 
These signs designate, besides the alphabet, 
the double vowels, peculiar compound sounds 
like th, and the marks of punctuation. By 
prefixing a sign consisting of three dots, the 
fundainental signs are used as numerals ; by 
prefixitig another the last seven represent 
musical characters, and by a sign peculiar to 
each octave the necessity of designating the 
key to each musical sentence is avoided. 

The apparatus consists of a board, in a 
fi'aine like that of a double slate, the surface 
of which is grooved horizontally and verti- 
cally by lines one eighth of an inch apart ; on 
this the paper is fastened by shutting down 
the upper half of the frame, and the points 
are made with an awl or bodkin, through a 
piece of tin perforated with six holes, an 
eighth of an inch apart. The peifo rat ions 
are made from right to left, in order that the 
writing when reversed may read from left to 
right. Books and music are now printed for 
the blind on this system. Five or six of our 
larger institutions have adopted it. 

Some of the blind institutions in this coun- 
try have attached to them workshops for 
the adult blind, especially those who have 
graduated at these institutions, -where ceilain 
advantages of shop-rent, machinery, material 
at wholesale prices, and in some instances 
board at a reduced rate, or a moderate pen- 
sion, are allowed, by way of equalizing the 
ditfcrence between them and the working 
classes who possess all their fiiculties. In 
one instance, in Philadelphia, an asylum has 
been provided for the aged and infirm blind, 
where, l)eguiling the weariness of the passing 
hours by s^ich light toil as they can readily 
accomplish, they may pass the evening of 
life in comfort and happiness. 

The ratio of the blind to the entire popu- 
lation was. according to the last censiis, 1 to 
2328, which would give not far from 13,000 
as the present number in the country. Es- 
timating one fifth of these as of school age, 



thei'e should be 2600 in the different insti- 
tutions. The number actually connected 
with them does not exceed 1300. As most 
of the states have made provision for sup- 
porting poor blind children at these institu- 
tions, a provision available on application to 
the governor or secretary of state, this num- 
ber should be largely increased. 

We have the testimony of some of the 
most eminent European teachers of the blind, 
that our larger institutions are superior to 
any of those in Europe in the thoi'oughness 
and extent of their teaching, and in the 
spirit of self-dependence with which they in- 
spire their pu[iils. We insert a table giv- 
ing a view of the present condition of the 
blind institutions in this country so far as 
can be ascertained. There is also an insti- 
tution for the blind incorporated in California. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

INSTITUTIONS FOR THE TRAINING OF 
IDIOTS. 

These belong to the class of humanitarian 
efforts which have become so numerous dur- 
ing the past hundred years, and which have 
embraced in their scope the infirm, the or- 
phan, the unfortunate, the vicious, and those 
who, from deprivation of one or more of their 
facidties, or feebleness of all of them, have 
become dependent upon others. 

An effoit is said to have been made by 
Vincent de Paul, one of the noblest and 
purest men in the Roman Catholic Church, 
more than two hundred years ago, to instruct 
a few adult imbeciles at the priory of St. 
Lazarus, in Paris, but with very slight suc- 
cess. The attempt was not repeated till 
1818, when an idiot child, dumb from idiocy, 
was admitted as a pupil at the American 
Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb at Hartford. 
He was considerably improved during a res- 
idence of a year there ; but not being prop- 
erly a deaf-mute, and not being capable of 
going on with their classes, he was dismissed. 
He had, however, learned the sign-language 
sufficiently to be able to communicate his 
wants by it. Other imbeciles were subse- 
quently, at Various times, admitted to that 
and some other institutions for the blind and 
for deaf-mutes in this country prior to 1840. 
^lost of these received some benefit fi'om in- 
cidental instruction and intercourse with the 
pu])ils of these institutions. In Great Brit- 



INSTITUTIONS FOR THE TRAINING OF IDIOTS. 



443 



ain, as early as 1819, Dr. Ilichard Poole, of 
Edinl)Uig-h, published an Essay on Educa- 
tion, in which lie urged the importance of 
attempting to educate and improve idiot 
children, and called for the organization of 
an institution for imbeciles. Elforts were 
made in France, from 1824 to 1888, by sev- 
eral eminent men, to instruct a few of these 
unfortunates, but witli comparatively sliglit 
success. They were taught to imitate others 
in a few motions, and to repeat a few words 
by rote, but, left to themselves, soon relapsed 
into their previous hopeless condition. In 
1888, Dr. Edward Seguin, a fiiend and pupil 
of the celebrated surgeon Itard, who had 
himself long contemplated the possibility of 
iiliot instruction, commenced teaching a few 
idiot children in Paris. Unlike those who 
jireceded him in this wr)rk, he liad studied 
carefully, in all its bearings and relations^ the 
subject of idiocy ; and having become satis- 
fied that it was only a prolonged infancy, in 
which the infjintile grace and intelligence 
having passed away, there remained only 
the feeble muscular development and mental 
weakness of that stage of growth, he S(night 
to fjllow nature in his pi-ocesses for the de- 
velopment of the enfeebled body and mind. 
In these etforts he was far more successful 
than his predecessors. In 1846, he publish- 
ed his treatise on the Treatment of Idiocy, 
which is still the text-book of all teachers of 
iijd)eciles. 

About the same time that Dr. Seguin com- 
menced his school in I'aris, a young Swiss 
physician of Zurich, Dr. Louis Guggenbuhl, 
attempted with success tlie training of some 
Cretin* children, on the Abendberg, above 
Interlachen. The success of these two phi- 
lanthropists led others in Prussia, Austria, 
the smaller Geiman states, Sardinia, and 
England, to establish similar schools f )r the 
training of these hitherto neglected children. 

The first movements for idiot training in 
this country were made almost siumltaneous- 
ly in New York and Massacliusetts ; that in 
New York having slightly the precedence, 
though the first schools were organized in 
Massachusetts. Dr. F. F. Backus of Koch- 
ester, elected to the state Senate of New 
York in the autumn of 1845, had become 

* Tlie Cretin i.s an imbecile whose physical de- 
generation is prcatcr, tlioufrli liis mental condition is 
more iiopeful, than that of tlio idiot Tho disease, 
Cretinism, is supposed to he caused by the impreg- 
nation of the springs with magnesian salts, aud is 
very common iu mountainous districts. 



interested in the accounts of the schools of 
Seguin an I Guggenbuhl, and informing him- 
self as fidly as possible in regard to them, 
made a report to the Senate, in the session 
of 1846, accompanying it with resolutions 
providing for the establishment of a train- 
ing school. These passed the two Houses, 
but were reconsidered and lost in the low- 
er House. During the same winter, on the 
motion of Judge Byington, in the Massa- 
chusetts legislature, a conuuission was ap- 
pointed, consisting of the mover, and Dr. S. 
G. Howe and Gilman Kinjball. Esq., to in- 
vestigate the condition of the idiots and iin- 
1)cciles of the slate. In 1848, as a result of 
the reports of this commission, tlie Massa- 
cliusetts School for Imbecile and Feeble- 
minded Youth was chartered, but was not 
organized till October of that year. It is 
under the general superintendence i>f Dr. S. 
G. Howe. Meantime, in July, 1848, Dr. H. 
I>. Wilbur, a young physician of Barre, Mass., 
had o])ened a private school for imbecile and 
backward children in that town. In 18.51 an 
experimental Asylum for Idiots was estab- 
lislied at Albany, N. Y., and Dr. Wilbur was 
appointed its superintendent. Three years 
latei', this gave place to the New York State 
Asylum for Idiots at Syracuse, for which the 
.state erected a noble edifice, and provided 
for the training of the indigent imbecile chil- 
dren of the state. In 1852, the Pennsylva- 
nia Training School for Idiots and Imbeciles 
was organized at Germantown, Penn. ; but in 
1859 it was removed to Media, I^enn., where 
a large and well-provided asylum has been 
erected for it. It is under the care of Dr. 
Joseph Parish. In 1857, the Ohio State 
School for Idiots was established at Colum- 
bus, and Dr. R. J. Patterson took charge of 
it. The original school at Barre passed into 
the hands of Dr. Geoi-ge Brown when Dr. 
Wilbur removed to Albany, and still main- 
tains its early efiiciency. Besides this, there 
are two other private schools for imbeciles : 
one in New York, under the cliarge of Mr. 
J. B. Richards, who was formerly connected 
with the Massachusetts and Pennsylvania in- 
stitutions, and one in Lakeville, Litchfield 
county, Conn., under the care of Dr. 11. M. 
Knight, established in 1858. 

Several of the other state legislatures have 
agitated the subject, and will, probably, 
eventually establish schools. 

Of those alrea<ly in existence, the asylum 
in Syracuse, of the state institutions, and that 
at Barre, of the private ones, have been tho 



444 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 




ASYLUM FOB IDIOTS, SYRACUSE. 



mofit successful, and, in the opinicm of com- 
petent and unprejudiced judges, are superior 
to any of the European iustitutions. Dr. 
Seguin, the founder of the Paris school, has 
been in this country much of the time for 
twelve years past, and has rendered efficient 
service in the introduction of the best meth- 
ods of instruction. 

The processes employed in the training 
of idiots in our American institutions all 
grew out of Seguin's fundamental theory, 
" that idiocy is a prolonged infancy ;" and 
the course pursued by nature in developiiig 
the infant into the healthy, robust, intelli- 
gent child, is closely followed. In many 
cases, the muscular system is feeble, and un- 
equally and impeifectly developed ; this is 
carefully invigorated by attention to diet, 
frequent bathing, and such exercise as shall 
strengthen the muscles, while subordinating 
them to the control of the will. The atten- 
tion is fixed, and taught to distinguish form, 
size, and color by the presentation of objects 
of bright colors, and of varied form and bulk. 
The irregular muscular movements, often the 
result of habit, are controlled by gymnastic 



exercises with dumb-bells, ladders, etc., and 
by military exercises, which exact the atten- 
tion and careful action of the hands, feet, 
head, and eye. Numbers are taught by the 
object method, and reading by the word sys- 
tem and the use of pictures. As in deaf-mute 
instruction, the effort is made, at the earliest 
possible moment, to direct the thoughts in- 
ward, to lead the child to watch and express 
his own feelings and emotions, and then to 
guide him to observe the emotions of others, 
and soon to learn something of his Creator, 
and his own moi'al nature and destiny. It 
is retnarlcable with what facility the simple 
truths of morality and religion are perceived, 
even by very weak intellects. Their progress 
in these is much more rapid than in intellect- 
ual studies ; yet many of the pupils in the 
best institutions learn to read passably well, 
to wi'ite a good hand, and generally to spell 
correctly ; become familiar with the principal 
facts of geography, with the elements of gram- 
mar, and arithmetic as far, perhaps, as com- 
pound numbers. A few make still greater 
progress, but these are the exceptions, not 
the rule. 



INSTITUTIONS FOR THE EDUCATION AND TRAINING OF ORPHANS. 



445 



It is, pcrluvps, too soon to decide very con- 
fidt'iitlv wliat will be the results of idiot in- 
struction ; l)iit this much is tolerably certain, 
that a proportion not exceeding one fourth, 
and these often apparently the worst cases 
v^vhen admitted, will become so far improved 
AS to }>erform the ordinary <hities of life and 
citizenship nearly as well as the masses gen- 
erally; another fourtli will improve so much 
as to be capable of working intelligently, un- 
der tlie supervi^on of others, but not of any 
considerable independent action — these will, 
under favorable circumstances, nearly or quite 
support themselves; anotlier fourth will be 
greatly improved in their liabits, and will re- 
quire but little attention, though unable to 
do much toward their own support ; while 
the remainder, though often, perhaps, as 
promising as any at first, will be little, if at 
all, improved. 

The number of idiots and imbeciles in the 
country lias never been satisfactorily ascer- 
tained, and in the nature of the case cannot 
be, from the reluctance of friends, in many 
cases, to admit their condition. Careful in- 
vestigations made in some of the states, and 
in single counties in others, would indicate 
that here, as in Europe, tlie number is but 
little less tlum that of the insane, or, in 
round numbers, one in 600. 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

INSTITUTIONS FOR THE EDUCATION AND 
TRAINING OF ORPHANS. 

Some of the Roman emperors and many 
of the bishops and pastors of the early Chris- 
tian Church interested themselves in the care 
of orphans, but during the dark ages this as 
well as other charities was neglected and for- 
gotten, and it was not till the sixteenth cen- 
tury that any attempts wx're made to estab- 
lish orphan asylums. During the seventeenth 
century ihey became quite numerous both 
among Protestants and Roman Catholics, 
and few large towns were without one or 
more orphan houses. Tlie Moravians in par- 
ticular were specially tender of the father- 
less, and in all their settlements of consider- 
able size estalilished houses for them. In the 
last years of the seventeenth century, August 
nermann Fratdce established his orphan house 
at Halle, which still exists, and is one of the 
largest orphan asylums in the world. 

In this country orphan houses were estab- 



lished by the Moravians in Pennsylvania and 
Ceorgia, early in the eighteenth century. In 
1Y40 the celebrated (it'orge Whitefield laid 
the foundation of his orphan house at Pe- 
ihesda, about ten miles from Savannah, fieor- 
gia. After many pecuniary dilliculties it 
tinally attained to a prosperous condition 
during his life, and he added to it an acade- 
my, and purposed, could a charter have been 
obtained, to establish a college in connection 
with it. 

The number of orj)han asylums estal>Iished 
previous to the commencement of the pres- 
ent century was, howevei-, very small. There 
were no very large cities, and it was only in 
the lai'ge cities tbat orphans unfiiended were 
so numerous as to require considerable build- 
ings for their shelter and domicile. In New 
York city the first orphan asylum grew out 
t)f the " Society for the Relief of Widows 
with Small Children," and owes its origin to 
the zeal and energy of the late Mrs. Joanna 
Pethune. It was founded in 1806, and at 
first it was attempted to place the children 
in families, but their number soon rendered 
this difficult, and after renting premises for 
a time they erected an asylum in Pank street, 
and in 1840 removed to their new edifice on 
the banks of the Hudson, between Seventy- 
third and Seventy-fourth streets. It is large- 
ly endowed. 

Subsequently other institutions for orphans 
have been established in that city, some of 
them amply endowed either by legacies, or by 
the increased value of the property on w hich 
they were originally erected, Avliile others 
are dependent, in part, on annual contribu- 
tions, or on grants from the city treasury or 
Poard of Education. There ai'e now ten of 
these institutions in New York city and four 
i:i the adjacent city of Prooklyn, aside from 
the Home for the Friendless and other pro- 
ventive and reformatory institutions, a large 
part of whose inmates are orphans; and 
aside, also, from the Randall's Island Nurs- 
ery, where the last year about 1200 children 
— orphans, half orphans, or children of in- 
temperate and criminal parents — were cared 
for. In all these institutions in the city of 
New York not less than 4000 children are 
domiciled. 

There are now asylums for orphans in 
nearly every town of 10,000 inhaliitants in 
the country, and in the larger cities there are 
usually several. Thus there are nine or ten 
in Philadeli)hia, three in Paltimore, and five 
in Boston. One of the most remarkable of 



446 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



these, both on account of the magnificence 
of its editice and the lai-geness of its endow- 
ment, is the Giranl College for orphans at 
Philadelphia. It \yas founded by the be- 
quest of a tract of land and two njillions of 
dollars bv Stephen Gii'ard, a ■wealthy banker 
of that city. Mr. Girard left minute direc- 
tions in his will in regard to the building 
and management of the charity. It is lo- 
cated on a lot comprising f >rtv-one acres of 
latid, surrounded by a wall ten feet in height. 
The grounds are laid out as play-grounds, 
gardens, grass-plots, etc. The buildings are 
all of marble. The principal one is in the 
form of a Corinthian temple, 169 feet long, 
111 wide, aud 97 high, aud has a portico of 
thirty-f )ur marble columns each 55 feet high. 
One of the smaller buildings is used as a 
laboratory, bakery, etc. The other four are 
each 125 feet long, 52 feet wide, and two 
stories in height. The whole cost of the 
buildings was $1,9:^0,000. The officers are 
a president, secretary, two professors, five 
male and twelve female teachers, a phvsician, 
matron, assistant matron, and steward. The 
college was opened in January, 1848: As 
many poor white male orphans as the en- 
dowment can support are admitted, between 
the ages of six and ten years, fed, clothed, 
and educated, and between the ages of f )ur- 
teen and eighteen bound out to mechanical, 
agricidtural, or commercial occupations. No 
ecclesiastic, missionary, or minister of any 
sect whatever, is to hold any connection 
with the college or be admitted to the prem- 
ises even as a visitor. The number of pupils 
on the f )undation is a little over 850, and 
the annual expenditure about $60,000. 

This is but one of several munificent 
foundations for oiphans in that citv. The 
Burd Orphan Asylum recently founded there 
for orphans between four and eight years of 
age, and primarily those of Episcopal parent- 
age, has an endowment of about half a mill- 
ion dollars. 

At Zelicno]-)le, Butler count}^ in western 
Pennsylvania, a farm school f )r orjihans from 
Lutheran families, was established in 1854, 
and is under the charge of a superintend- 
ent trained to his work in the Institute of 
Brothers connected with the Rough House, 
Dr. ^Vichern's reformatory at lloin, near 
Ilamburg. This is, so far as we are aware, 
the first distinct eti'ort in this country to 
train orphan childien distinctively to agri- 
cultural or horticultural pursuits. 

The ordinary course of instruction in most 



of these institutions embraces the common 
branches of English education, and in many 
of them some mechanical pursuit is taught 
and practised for four or five hours each day. 
There is reason to believe that, in many 
cases, the mode of life and the regularity and 
formality of the course of training, has too 
much tendency to I'ender the children autom- 
ata, and unfit them to some extent f >r the 
hai'dships, the frequent changes, and the 
sudden temptations to which they are ex- 
posed after leaving the institutions. Where 
they are placed in piivate families while yet 
quite young, this evil is not so likely to follow 
as where they are retained, as they are in 
some asylums, to the age of sixteen. 

No estimate, either of tlie amount perma- 
nently invested or of the annual current ex- 
penses of these institutions in this country, 
can be given, nor even any near approxima- 
tion to an estimate. The pei-manent invest- 
ment is to be reckoned by millions, and 
possibly by tens of millions; the annual 
expenditure in New York city alone, reaches 
nearly or quite half a million of dollars. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

PREVENTIVE AND REFORMATORY INSTI- 
TUTIONS. 

Although there are occasional indications 
that individual pliilanthropists, like the ba- 
ne volent Cai<linal Odescalchi at Rome, and 
Sir Matthew Male in England, had clear per- 
ceptions of the evil of leaving vagi-ant and 
morally endangered children as well as ju- 
venile delin(]uents, exposed to the tempta- 
tions to a vicious life, yet apart fi-om a school 
established partially f )r them by the former 
in 1586, there seems to have been no serious 
movement in their behalf prior to the estab- 
lishment of the school and home for A-agrant 
and vicious boys at Rome, by Giovaimi 
Borgi, (better known as Tata Giovanni, or 
Papa John,) in 1786 or 1787, and the organ- 
ization of the "Philanthropic Society for the 
Prevention of Crime" at London in 1788. 
This last, originally established on the fami- 
ly plan, soon became a large establishment, 
in which a great number of boys were con- 
gregated and employed in different l)ranches 
of manufacture, having also a probationary 
school of reform for the more vicious and 
criminal of its inmates. In 1846, the loca- 
tion was changed and the whole system 



PREVENTIVE AND UEFOKMATORY INSTITUTION'S. 



447 



nindificHl. A large farm was purchased at 
Red Hill, near Itoigatc, Surrey, agiiculture 
and hortici'.lturc substituted for mechanical 
and manutacfuring pursuits, and the family 
system for the congregated. Since that pe- 
riod the number of family reformatories, as 
they are called, has greatly increased in 
Great Britain. On the continent the emi- 
nent success of the agricultural and horticul- 
tural reformatories of Mettray, 1 Kirn, Tin vsse- 
lede, and many others of more recent origin, 
has attracted general attention. 

In this country the first institution in- 
tended fir the refonnation of vicious and 
criminal children, was the "New York House 
of Refuge f )r Juvenile Delinquents," incor- 
porated in 1824 and opened January 1, 1825. 
Its founders were John Griscoin, Isaac Col- 
lins, James W. Gerard, and Hugh Maxwell, 
all at the time members of a " Society for 
the Prevention of I'aupcrisra and Crime," 
which had been formed in 1818. These 
gentlemen were aided and encouraged by 
others whose names appear on the list of 
corporators, and who were through life note- 
AVi)rthy for their hearty particijiation in works 
of philanthropy. The institution thus found- 
ed has bad a steady growth, as the I'apid in- 
crease of population in the city has been 
attended by a more than corresponding aug- 
mentation of the nund)er of juvenile deliii- 
quents. At the end of thirty-six years fi-om 
its first opening it occupies a tract of be- 
tween tliirty and forty acres on the southern 
end of Randall's Island, in the East River, 
and its colossal buildings, evectcd at an cx- 
petisc of not far from $450,000, furnish am- 
ple acconnnodations for school-rooms, lodg- 
ing-rooms, dining-rooms, and workshops for 
750 children, and actually hold in durance 
nearly 700. 

In 1826 a "House of Reformation," on a 
similar plan, was established in Boston, and, 
in 1828, a " House of Refuge" in Philadel- 
phia. Similar institutions have since been 
organized in New Orleans, Rochester, N. Y., 
Westboro', Mass., Cincinnati, Providence, 
Pittsburg, West Meriden, Corn., St. Louis, 
Ballimoio, and perhaps some other cities. 

The distinguishing characteristics of these 
institutions are, that those committed to 
them have generally been arrested for crime, 
and liave either been sentenced to the House 
of Refuge, in lieu of a -sentence to jail or 
state prison, or have been sent to these in- 
stitutions without sentence, in the hope of 
their reformation. They are supported, di- 



rectly or indirectly, from tlie public treasury 
(the New York house, besides an appropria- 
tion of $40 per liead from the state comp- 
troller, received last year $8000 from the 
city treasury, over $5000 from tlie Board 
of Education for its schools, and about 
$7500 from theatre licenses). In most, or 
all of thcrn, the children are employed in 
some branch of manufacture, or some me- 
clianic art, f )r from five to eight hours per 
day, and receixe from three to five hours' in- 
struction in school. In all there is more or 
less religious and moral instruction imparted, 
having in view their permanent reformation 
from evil habits and practices. In all, or 
nearly all, they are confined at night in cell- 
like dormitories, into which they are secure- 
ly locked, and their labor, duiing the day, 
is under strict supervision, and is generally 
fai'ined out to contractors. High walls and 
a strict police are mainly relied on to pre- 
vent escape, and the attempt to do so, or 
any act of insubordination, is usually pun- 
ished with considerable though not perhaps 
umnerited severity. The managers generally 
possess and exercise the power of indentur- 
ing those children who, after a longer or 
shorter stay, seem to be reformed, even 
though the period of their sentence has not 
been completed. A considei-able number 
who have been sent to the House of Refuge 
on complaint of their parents are, after a 
time, delivered to them on ap|)licalion ; but 
a huge proportion of these do not, do well. 
Of the others, it is believed that from fifty 
to seventy-five per cent, refoi-m, at least so far 
as to become cpiiet and law-abiding citizens. 
Of those who do not reform, some, after dis- 
charge at the end of their term, are soon re- 
conunitted ; others are sent to sea, and per- 
haps amid the hardships of a sailor's life 
become reformed ; others return to the vi- 
cious associations from which they were orig- 
inally taken, and after a few months or years 
of Clime, find their place among the inmates 
of the county or convict prisons, -meet a 
violent death, or fill a drunkard's giave. 

These institutions necessarily combine 
somelhing of the character of a juison with 
that of tlie school, and while their main ob- 
ject is the reformation rather than the pun- 
ishment of the young oflender, they retain 
so many penal features that they are objects 
of dread and dislike to many parents and 
guardians whose children or wards would be 
materially benefited by their discipline. 

This feature of their manaj-vment has led 



448 



EDUCATIOX AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



to the establishment of another class of re- 
formatories which, though sometimes assum- 
ing similar names, are essentially different 
both in the character of their inmates and 
in the methods adopted for their reforma- 
tion. These methods are indeed quite di- 
verse in the institutions coming under this 
general head, and are to some extent the 
reflection of the differing views of those who 
have charge of them. 

The subjects taken in charge by these re- 
formatories are somewhat younger on the 
average than those of the houses of refuge ; 
they ai-e for the most part only guilty of 
vaorancy and the vicious habits of a street 
life, or at the worst, of petty pilferings and 
thefts ; they have not been, in most in- 
stances, tried for any crime against the laws, 
or if they have, their tender age has justitied 
the niao;istrate in withholding a sentence. 

WhcMi admitted to the reformatory, which 
is nsually done on a magistrate's warrant, 
they undergo a thorough ablution, and are 
clothed in plain, neat garments having no 
distinguishing mark, are well fed, and care- 
fuUv taught and watched over, and the ut- 
most pains arc taken to eradicate their evil 
habits, and to make them feel that their 
teachers and those who have them in charge 
are their best friends and seek their good. 
Their past history is never alluded to, and is 
gcnerallv known only to the superintendent. 
In these establishments there are no dormi- 
tory cells, and severe punishment is seldom 
found necessary. The labor of the pupils is 
seldom regarded as a matter of much im- 
portance, though in some instances three, 
four, or five hours a day are spent in some 
light employment. From these institutions 
escapes are unfreqnent, and in most cases 
the children form a strong attachment for 
their teachei's. In some instances they are 
broken up into groups or families of twenty 
or thirty persons, each having its "house 
father" and mother, and its " elder brother," 
if the pupils are boys, and its matron or 
" mother," and elder sister or aunt, if they 
are girU. These officers teach them and per- 
form the duties indicated by their titles in 
such a way as to supply, as far as possible, 
the place of those natural relations of whose 
judicious influence they are deprived. One 
of these reformatories is a ship, and the 
pupils are taught all the duties required of 
an able-bodied seaman, and the order and 
discipline are similar to those of the naval 
school ships. They are taught, in addition 



to ordinary common-school studies, naviga- 
tion, and after a few months' instruction are 
in demand for the mercantile marine, where 
they not unfrequently are rapidly promoted. 

In most of these institutions the pupils 
remain in the reformatory a shorter average 
period than those who are inmates of the 
houses of refuge. In the New York Juve- 
nile Asylum, one of the most successful of 
these reformatoi'ies, they are usually inden- 
tured or discharged in six or twelve months. 
In the State Industrial School fm- Girls at 
Lancaster, Mass., comparatively few remain 
over a year. These institutions are usually 
supported by the large cities, though in a 
few instances they are state institutions. 
The labor of the childi'en being of but little 
account, the expense per head pei' annum is 
somewhat greater than in the h(3uses of 
refuge, but the number of ref )rmations is 
also greater, and may with considerable cer- 
tainty be estimated at from seventy-five to 
eighty-five per cent. Among these institu- 
tions we may name the " New York Juvenile 
Asylum," the " State Industrial vSchool for 
Girls" at Lancaster, Mass., the " Massachu- 
setts School Ship," the "Asylum and Farm 
School" at Thompson's Island, Boston, the 
"State Reform School" at Cape Elizabeth, 
Maine, the " Reform School" at Chicago, 
and the " State Reform Farm" at Lancaster, 
Ohio. In the last, which is the first attempt 
at the introduction of the family or group 
system for boys in this country, fruit culture 
is to be the principal employment of the in- 
mates, and the term of residence will be 
longer than at most of the others. 

In our lai'ge cities there is still another 
class of children for whom a preventive edu- 
cation is necessary ; they are not criminal, 
they have not generally acquired vicious 
habits, but they are morally endan^iered. 
They are often orphans or half orphans, and 
frequently h(niieloss ; many of them are chil- 
dren of foreign parents of the lower classes, 
and have had no opportunities of education ; 
some are the offspring of vicious or intemper- 
ate parents. The greater part of them obtain 
a precarious livelihood by begging, sweeping 
crossings, boot blacking, selling newspapers, 
statuettes, fruit, or small wares, or oi'gan- 
grinding. They are all exposed to strong 
temptations to evil, and have acquired a 
kind of defiant independence from being 
driven so early to take care of themselves. 

For these children it has been felt that 
some provision must be made to prevent 



PREVENTIVE AND REFORMATORY INSTITUTIONS. 



449 



them from falling into vicious and criminal 
courses, and becoming- depredators upon 
society, and to give them the opportunity 
of becoming good and intelligent citizens. 
The measures necessary to accomplish these 
results have been the subject of much dis- 
cussion ; antl amid the experimenting which 
has been the result of this discussion, much 
good and some evil have been done. Indus- 
trial schools have been established, mainly 
for girls, in which reading and the elements 
of geography and arithmetic, vocal music, 
and the use of the needle in plain work, are 
taught ; and the furnishing of one or two 
meals a day and plain clothing when need- 
ed, are made the inducements to attendance. 
For the newsboys and other young vendors 
of petty wares, a lodging house has been 
opened in New York city, and evening in- 
struction given, the boys paying six cents 
each for their lodging. On the Sabbath a 
free dinner is provided for those who will 
attend and receive religious instructions ; 
evening schools are also established, w^here 
those who are engaged in their little em- 
ployments during the day, may receive in- 
tellectual and moral training. 

In the worst quarters of New York and 
Philadelphia, missions and houses of indus- 
try have been founded, in which schools are 
kept through the week, much after the plan 
of the industrial schools already described, 
and where homeless forsaken children, and 
those whose parents are vicious and degrad- 
ed, are clothed, boarded, instructed, and 
made to know the comforts of a home. It 
is obvious, however, that the greatest kind- 
ness which can be done to these children is 
to remove them from the influence of the 
temptations to which they have been ex- 
posed, and hence, most of these institutions 
send their children to homes in the country, 
after more or less preparatory training, as 
fast as good places can be found for them. 
In many cases, they are adopted by those in 
whose charge they are placed, and find in 
their foster parents more tender aftection 
and care tliau they have ever known before. 
In other cases, the}' meet with less sympathy 
and love, and return to the great city and its 
temptations again. 

In 1853, a " Children's Aid Society" was 
organized in New York city, mainly through 
the efforts of Mi'. Charles L. Brace, one of 
whose principal objects is the location of 
this class uf cliildren in good homes at the 
West and elsewhere. Several of these so- 
27* 



cieties have since been formed in other large 
cities. The original society at New York 
has the oversight of industrial schools, boys' 
meetings, tiie newsboys' lodging house, etc., 
and gathers from all quarters these morally 
endangered children, and sends them into 
the country in companies of forty or fifty ; 
its agents having secured situations for 
them. About 800 are thus sent out an- 
nually.- 

Still another class of organizations intend- 
ed for the benefit of these hapless children, 
though devoting its attention mainly to two 
classes of them, the very young children, 
infants and children under ten years, and 
girls of thirteen years and over, who are 
homeless and out of employment, are the 
Homes for the Friendless, of which there 
are now twelve in the United States. The 
first of these originated with the American 
Female Guardian Society, in New York, 
and was the result of the efforts of the di- 
rectors of that society to rescue these class- 
es from ruin. It assumed its present form 
in 1847, and has had nearly 10,000 in- 
mates ; 683 were received as members of its 
schools and workrooms in 1859, and 674 
were employed in the home workrooms, 
and furnished with situations ; 640 girls 
were taught in its industrial schools, and 
560 fjimilies aided. 

These institutions are all of them main- 
tained principally by private contributions, 
though most of them, in the large cities, re- 
ceive school moneys, to aid in sustaining 
their schools, from the city or state, and 
some of them receive occasional grants from 
the state or city treasuries. 

It is impossible to ascertain, with any con- 
siderable certainty, the exact percentage of 
children from these institutions, who event- 
ually turn out well. In most of them, the 
failures are the exceptions, and the number 
of these is not large. The Home for the 
Friendless in New York city keeps up a 
correspondence relative to each child sent 
out, until their majority, unless they die be- 
fore that time. This correspondence dem- 
onstrates that full 90 per cent, grow up 
virtuous and well behaved. This percent- 
age is larger than can safely be predicated of 
the other institutions, inasmuch as the chil- 
dren are for the most part received into the 
home at a very early age, and have not ac- 
quired the evil habits of those who are 
older, before coming under the influence of 
these charities. In the Children's Aid So- 



460 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



cieties, Houses of Industry, etc., the per- 
centage reformed is large, but not definitely 
ascertainable. 

There is still anotlier class of reformatory 
institutions not intended for children, but 
for that unfortunate class of women wlio, 
having led lives of unchastity, have become 
penitent for their sins and desire to return 
to the paths of virtue. This department of 
reform has been less actively j)romoted here 
than in Europe, and especially in Great Brit- 
ain, but there arc in most of our large cities 
Magdalen Asylums, or institutions otherwise 
designated, but intended for this class. New 
York has one of these asylums, Boston two, 
and riiiladolphia three, one of which, the Ro- 
sine Asylum, founded in 1847, is a very act- 
ive and useful organization. 

The number of Houses of Refuge, or in- 
stitutions of that class, is fourteen. The 
cost of their buildings and grounds is about 
$2,050,000, and the annual cost of their 
Qjaintenance not far from ^340,900. 

Of the Juvenile Asylums, &c., there are 
seven , the cost of buildings and grounds is 
not far from $450,000, and the annual ex- 
penses of maintenance about $130,000. 

The number of institutions of the third 
class cannot be definitely ascertained. Few 
or none of them are established or entirely 
maintained by the state or city governments, 
and some are altogether private enterprises. 



There are fifteen of them in the city of New 
York alone, and two or three in Brooklyn, 
five or six in Philadelphia, and a consider- 
able number in smaller cities and towns. 
Some of these occujjy leased buildings, oth- 
ers own their edifices. 

The buildings and grounds of the New 
York Home for the Friendless cost nearly 
$00,000, and of the Five Points House of 
Industry, about $40,000, The annual ex- 
penses of seven of the more important of 
the preventive and reformatory institutions 
in New York city, were about $114,000. It 
would probably be safe to estimate the total 
permanent investment of all these organi- 
zations at not less than three millions of 
dollars, which we are satisfied is below the 
reality, and the current annual expenditure 
at not less than $750,000. 

That these institutions have not yet at- 
tained to their highest degree of efficiency, 
and that they are not fully adequate to the 
reformation and preventive education of the 
vast number of morally endangered, vagrant, 
and criminal children of the country, is un- 
doubtedly true; but among the evidences of 
national progress in our country since the 
commencement of its independent existence, 
there is none which refiects greater credit 
upon its philanthropy than the establishment 
and maintenance of so many institutions of 
reformation and preventive education. 



EDUCATIONAL STATISTICS. 



461 




L 



< < C C C = S: C- E £ ^ i _: - ;:^ ;^ - - ^ x; /'. /5 iC C fc. =i t/. f- H > > > -oi!"3X 



452 



REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 



TableIX.— STATISTICS OF COLLEGES AND COLLEGIATE DEPAETMENTS IN THE ITNITED 

CENT INFOKMATION IN THE POSSESSION OP 



NoTEl. — ^Institutions not fully reported are to be understood as not beinn in recent correspondence 

NoTK 2. — For statistics of the professional schools or departments connected with any of these institu 

cultural, ifcc, in this report. 

Notes. — In the columns of " Cost of tuition per term," and "Board per month," statistics marked 

Note 4.— In this table the abbreviations iu the column of " Denominations " are as follows: It. C, 

copal; Cone;., Congregational ; Pres., Presbyterian ; Chr., Christian; U. P., United Presbyterian; C. P., 

tists; Univ., Universalist; Unit., Unitarian; Mor., Moravian; N. Ch., New Church; G. E., German 

pal; E. A., Evangelical Associations ; M. P., Methodist Protestant; C. and P., Congregational and Pres 

• iioiE 5. — The existence of those colleges marked with an interrogation point (?) is considered doubt 



Name. 



Location. 



President 



East Alabama Male College 

Florence University (?) 

Wesleyan College (?) 

Southern University 

La Grange College (?) 

Howard College 

Spring Hill College 



Talladega College 

University of Alabama. . 

Cane Hill College 

St. John's College 

College of St. Augustine. 



St. Vincent's College 

Marvsville College 

Odd 'Fellows' College (?) 

University of California 

PetalumaCollege 

St. Ignatius College 

St. Mary'.s College 

Union College 

University College 

San Eafael College 

Franciscan College 

College of oirr Lady of Guada- 
lupe. 

Santa Clara College 

University of the Paciflo 

Pacific Methodist College 

Sonoma College 

Pacific Methodist College 

California College 

Hesperian College 

Colorado College (?) 

Trinity College 

Wesleyan University 



Tale College 

Brandy wine College. . . 

Delaware College 

University of Georgia. 

Atlanta Universitj' 

Bowdon College 

Oglethorpe College . . . 

Mercer L niversity 

Chri.st's College 

Montpelier College 

Emory College 



.(?) 



Abingdon College 

Illinois Wesleyan University. 

St. Viatur's College 

Blackburn University 

Chicago University 

St. Ignatius College 

St. Aloysius College 

Eureka College 



Auburn, Ala 

Florence, Ala 

do 

Greensborough, Ala 

La Grange, Ala 

Marion, Ala 

(Spring HiU,) near Mobile, 
Ala. 

Talladega, Ala 

Tuscaloosa, Ala 

Cane HiU, Ark 

Little Eock, Ark 

Benicia, Cal 



J. T. Dunklin 



1830 
1841 
1835 



A. S. Andrews, D.D. 



J. F. Murfee 

Eev. J. MontUlot, S. J 



Los An;^ele8, Cal . . . 

Marysville, Cal 

Napa City, Cal 

Oakland, 'Cal 

Pctaluma, Cal 

San Francisco, Cal . 

do 

do 

do 

San Eafael, Cal 

Santa Barbara, Cal. 
do 



1832 
1852 

185' 
1868 

1867 



N. T. Lupton, A. M 

Eev. F. E. Earlo, A. M. . . . 

Col. O. C. Gray, A. M 

Eev. W. P. Tucker, A. M . 

Eev. J. McGill, C. M 



1855 
1866 
1855 
1863 



H. Durant, A. M . 



Eev. J. Bayma, S. J. 
Brother Justin 



1859 
1869 
1868 



Eev. Wm. Alexander 

Alfred Bates 

Eev. J. J. O'Keefo, O. S. F. 



Santa Clara, Cal 

do 

Santa Eosa, Cal 

Sonoma, Cal 

VacavUle, Cal 

do 

Woodland, Cal 

Golden City, Col. Ter. 

Hartford, Conn 

Middletown, Conn 



New Haven, Conn . 
Brandy wine, Del... 

Newark, Del 

Athens, Ga , 

Atlanta, Ga 

Bowdon, Ga 

Atlanta, Ga 

Macon, Ga 

Montpelier, Ga 

Oxford, Ga!!!!.'.".!! 



1851 
1851 
1861 

1858 
1851 
1871 
1860 



Eev. A. Varsi, S. J 

Eev. T. H. Sinex, D. D 

A. L. Fitzgerald 

Eev. W. N. Cunnincham 

Eev. J. E. Thomas, D. D., LL. D.. 

M.Bailey, A. M 

J.M.Martin, A. M 



1823 
1831 



1701 



Eev. Abner Jackson, D. D., LL.D 
Eev. Joseph Cummings, D. D., 

LL.D. 
Eev. Noah Porter, D. D., LL. D. . 



1869 
1801 
1867 
1856 
1835 
1838 



W. H. Purnell, A. M 

A. A. Lipscomb, D. D 

E. A. Ware, AM 

Eev. F. H. M. Henderson, A. B. 

Eev. D. Wills, D. D 

Eov. A. J. Battle 



1837 



Abingdon, 111 1853 

Bloomington, HI 1852 

Bourbonnais Grove, IU 1866 

Carlinville, HI 

Chicago, HI 

do 

East St. Louis, HI , 

Eureka, IU. 



1859 
1870 
1868 
1852 



Eev. L. M.Smith, D.D 



J. W. Butler, A. M 

Eov. O. S. Munsell, D. D 

Very Eev. P. Beanrtoin 

Eev. J. W. Bailey, D. 1) 

Eov. J. C. Burroughs, D. D., LL.D 

Eev. A. Dameu 

Eov. F. H. Zabol, D. D., D. C. L .. 
H. Wt-Evorest, A. M ,^ 



STATISTICAL TABLES. 



453 



STATES AUTHORIZED TO CONFER DEGREES IN ARTS, COMPILED FROM THE MOST RE- 
THE UNITED STATES BUREAU OF EDUCATION. 

with tho office. , , . , , 

tions, refereuco is made to tho appropriate tables, theological, legal, medical, normal, commercial, agri- 

"a" mean the uivoii amount per annum; " 6" signifies board and tuition ])or .annum. 

Roman Callidlic; Dnpt., IJaptist; Mas., Masonic ; M. IC., Mctliodist K])is((ii>al ; 1'. K., Protestant Epis- 

Curaberlaii.l I'lcsUvtciiau ; Lath., Lutheran; Fr., Fricnil.s ; V. 1!., rnitnl lln tliivn; F. 15., Free liap- 

Reformed; Itcf., lielormed, (Dutch;) L. D. S., Latter-Day Saints; A. M. E., Alricau Methodist Episco- 

bvteriau ; M. E. S., Methodist Episcopal, South. 

fdl. 





§ 

.3 

1 
g 



i 

a 

o 
u 

1 

■A 
7 


Students. 


Cost of— 


1 

1 

u 




1 

1 


a 

Pi 

o 

1 


« 
S 

.a 

1 


o 

a 

o 

ja 
Pi 
o 
U3 


_o 

'3 




•a 


s 

a 

o . 

IB 
l^ 

5 



"a 
3 


05 

0) 

a 


"3 



i 
p< 

.3 
H 


P4 




Time of commencement. 


1 

9 


M.E.S. 


15 






28 


55 


.... 


98 




98 


a|70 


$18 




Last "Wednesday in June. 


•\ 
































4 


M.E... 


5 




























■) 































Bai)t... 


5 
18 

8 
11 
3 

(J 

7 

4 














142 
52 




142 
52 

386 
G4 

104 
67 
90 

50 


50 
6328 




2,500 
8,000 


Last Thursday in Juno. 
4th Tuesday in August. 


7 


40 


G 


6 










8 










q 
















64 
104 
C7 
90 

50 




a56 

050 

a50 

20-50 

o250 


al50 
13 

18 
25 

25 


3,000 

"'i.'ioo 

1,000 


Last "Wednesday in Juno. 


in 




77 










27 


11 


Ma.s ... 
P.E ... 

RC... 












12 


49 


10 


14 


8 


9 




Thursday aft er 1 st Wednes- 
day of ,Iuue. 
August 10. 


14 
















I'l 
































IG 
17 


State .. 
Bapt 


18 


174 


32 


13 


2 


5 


26 


247 


5 


252 


Free . . . 


a200-320 




3d "Wednesday in July. 


18 


R.&... 
R.C . .. 


19 














559 




559 


36 






June 5. 


10 




















"n 
































"1 




7 




























£)q 






























OT 


R.C ... 


6 


30 






30 


30 


2 


92 




92 


al50 




2,000 


March 3. 


"4 






"5 


R. C . . . 
M.E... 
M.E... 


17 

6 
C 














225 
55 

78 




oiy 


i350 
aSO-llO 
a30-70 


""26-25 
20 


12, 000 

2, 000 
500 


1st Tuesday in June. 


26 
27 


86 
115 


2 
20 


2 
10 


2 
3 


3 
2 


20 


00115 
72 150 


May 30. 
Middle of May. 


29 


M.E... 
Bapt... 
Chr.-.. 


7 
4 
7 


68 
32 

87 


23 
8 
11 


6 


8 
2 
14 


6 


96 


119 
25 

82 


88 207 
17 42 


a30-80 

25-40 

15}-34J 


20 
20 
22 


366 

150 


May 18. 

3d Wednesday in May. 

2d Friday in May. 


31 


4 


37 


71 


153 


33 
34 

35 

30 


P.E... 
M.E... 

Cong .. 


IC 
10 

25 




49 
49 

130 


42 
42 

134 


42 
42 

135 


30 
30 

128 


:::: 


1G3 
103 

527 




163 
163 

527 


a»0 
a33 

• 30 


18 
18 

22 


15, 000 
20, 000 

90, 000 


2d Thursday in July. 
3d Thursday in July. 

Last Thurs. but two in July. 


37 


State . . 
State .. 


G 
12 
7 
5 
G 
5 


44 


28 
14 










72 
231 
111 
102 
150 

82 




72 
9'!1 


aOO 
6300 


IG 


'26,666 


1st Wednesday in July. 
1st Wednesday in August. 


38 


59 




33 


125 


3<1 


59 170 






40 




51 

75 


25 


12 


8 


6 


"75 




102 
150 

82 


a54 

75 

olOO 


al50 
18-25 

18 


"'5,' 666 
5,000 


1st Wednesday in July. 
1st Wednesday in July. 
2d Wednesday in J iily. 


41 


Pres . . . 
Bapt . . . 


42 
41 


14 


24 


24 


20 


44 
































45 
4(i 


M. E. S. 
Chr... 


7 


.34 


28 


47 


41 


23 


13 


186 




186 


35 


18 


7,000 


Wednesday after 3d Moa 
day in July. 


47 

48 


M.E... 
K.C.... 
Pres . . . 
Bapt . . . 
B.C.... 
B.C.... 
Chr.... 


C 
9 
8 
14 
G 
4 
C 


132 


G 


4 


1 


1 


56 


200 




200 


a33 
6207 
6150 
a50 
aCO 


19 


1,500 


June 20. 


40 


28 
166 
64 


G 
26 
43 


5 
10 


2 
15 


1^ 


231 
24 


181 
277 
107 
50 
100 


93 
'35 


274 
277 
107 
50 
135 






2d Tlmrsdav in Juno. 


50 
51 


10 


4,000 


Last Tlnus'ilay in Juno. 
Aliuiit till' tnd olJunc. 


52 
63 






... 








a40 


16 


300 


1st .Monday in September, 
let Wednesday in June. 



454 REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 

Table IS.— STATISTICS OF COLLEGES AM) COLLEGIATE 



"Nttiae. 



Location. 



President. 



74 
75 
7G 
77 
78 
79 
80 
81 
82 

83 
84 
85 
8G 
87 
88 
89 
-90 
91 
92 
93 
94 
95 
96 
97 
98 
99 
100 
101 
102 
103 
104 
105 
lOG 
10 
108 
109 
110 
111 
113 
114 
11 
110 
117 
1J8 



54 Kortli western University. 

55 I.diiibavd University 

50, Kiuix College 

57| Mnr.sliall Chllogo 

581 lUiiKiis Collese. 

59 

60 

61 

62 

63 

64 

65 

66 

67 

68 

69 

70, 



■0) 



(?) 



McKt'tulree College 

Liucolu University 

Mendota College 

Moumouth College 

Kortbwesteni College. 

Augustan.i College 

Qniiicy College 

J ubileo College 

St. ratrick's College . . 

Slnirtleff College 

AV.sttielil College 

AV heat on College 

7ll Illinois Industrial University.. 

72 Dunkard t ollege '. (?) 

73 Indiana University 



(?) 



Brook ville College 

Wabash College 

Franklin College 

Fort Wayne College 

Concordia College 

Indiana Asbury University . . . 

Hanover College 

Ilartsville University 

Northwestern Christian Uni- 
versity. 

Union Christian College 

Moore's Hill College 

Salem College 

University of Notre Dame . . . 

Earlhani College 

St. Meiurad's College 

Valpar.iiso College 

Sniithson College 

Howard College 

Uurlington University 

Cri.swold College 

Norwegian Luther College . . . 

I'arson's College (?) 

Fairiicld College 

Upper Iowa University 

Iowa College 

Simp.son Centenary College. . . 

Iowa State D ni versity 

Iowa Wcsleyan University. . . 

Cornell College 

Central Univcr.sity of Iowa. . . 

Whittier College (?) 

Humboldt College 

Tabor College 

St. Benedict's College 

ISaker University 

Highland University 

State University 

Ottawa University 

Washburn College 

Lane University 

Berea College 

Ceciliiin College 

(Centre College 

Kentocky Military Institute . . 



Evanston, 111 

Galesburgh, HI 

, do 

Henry, 111 

Jacksonville, 111 . . 

Lebanon, 111 

Lincoln, 111 

Mendota, 111 

Monmonth, 111 

Naperville, 111 

Paxton, 111 

Quincy, 111 

Kobin's Nest, HI . . 

lluma, 111 

Upper Alton, HI . . 

Westlield, 111 

Wheaton, 111 

Urbana, 111 

Bourbon, lud 

Bloomington, Ind . 



Brookville, Ind 

Crawt'ordsville, Ind . 

Franklin, Ind 

Fort Waj-ne, Ind 

, do 

Greencastle, Ind 

Hanover, Ind 

Hartsvillo, Ind 

Indianapolis, Ind . . . 



1855 
1852 
1841 
1855 
1830 
1835 
1865 



E. O. Haven, D. D., LL. D. 
Eev. J. P. Weston, D. D . . 
Rev. J. P. GuUiver, D. D . . 



1856 

1865 
1860 
1854 

1847 



Kev. J. M. Sturtevant, D. D 

Eev. E. AUyn, D. D 

J. C. Bowdo'n, D. D 

Eev. J. W. Corbet, A. M 

D. A. W- allace, D. D., LL. D 

Eev. A. A. Smith, A. M 

Eev. T. N. Hasselquist , 

G. W. Gray, A. M 

lit. Eev. Hi; J. Whitehouse, D. D. 



1832 
1861 



Merom, Ind 

Moore's Hill, Ind 

Bourbon, Ind 

Notre Dame, Ind 

Eichmond, Ind 

St. Meinrad, Ind. 
Valparaiso, Ind.. 
, Ind 



1868 

i828 

1851 
1834 
1843 
1846 
1850 
1837 
1833 
1850 
1855 

1859 

1853 

1870 

184 

1860 

1860 



J. Bulkley, D. D 

Eev. S. B. Allen, A. M . . . 
Eev. J. Blanchard, A. M. 
J. M. Gregory, LL. D 



Eev. C. Nutt, D. D 

Eev. J. P. D. John, A. M .. 

Eev. J. F. Tattle, D. D 

H. L. Wayland, D. D 

Eev. L. Beers, A.B 

Ee V. W. Sihler, Ph. D 

Eev. T. Bowman, D. D 

Eev. G. C. Heckman, D. D . 

J. W. Scribner, A. M 

W. F. Black, A. M 



Eev. T. Holmes, D. D . . . . 
Eev. J. H. Martin, A. M . 

O. W. MiUer, A. M 

Very Eev. W. Corby 

J. Moore, A. M 

Eev. J. Hobie, O. S. B... 

Eev. T. B. Wood 

Eev. P. E. Kendall 



Kokomo, Ind 

Burlington, Iowa 

Davenport, Iowa 

Decorah, Iowa 

Des Moines, Iowa 

Fairiield, Iowa 

Fayette, Iowa 

Grinuell, Iowa 

Indianola, Iowa 

Iowa City, Iowa 

Mount Pleasant, Iowa . . 

Mount Vernon, Iowa 

Pella, Iowa 

Salem, Iowa 

Springvale, Iowa 

Tabor, Iowa 

Atchison, Kans 

Baldwin City, Kans 

Highland, Kans 

Lawrence, Kans 

Ottawa, Kans 

Topoka, Kans 

Lecompton, Kans 

Berea, Kv 

Cecilian tost Office, Ky. 

Danville, Ky 

Near Frankfort, Ky 



1854 
1859 
1861 



J. Henderson 

Eev. E. Lounsbery, A. M . 
Prof. L. Larsen 



1858 



186 

IHlli 

IKA 

1857 

1854 

1867 



1859 

1858 
1859 
1864 



Eev. A. AxUne, A. M 

B. W. McLain, A.M 

Eev. G. F. Magoun, D. D 

Eev. A. Bums, D. D 

K.v. (1. Thacher, D. D 

.Jcihn Wheeler, D. D 

Eev. W. F. King, D. D 

Eev. L. A. Dunn 

J. n. Pickering 

Eev.S. H. Taft 

Eev. W. M. Brooks, A. M 

Very Eev. G. Christoph 

Eev. J. A. Simpson, A. M 

Eev. J. A. McAfee 

John Eraser, A. M 



1865 
1865 
1858 
1860 
1823 
1846 



Eev. P. McVicar, D. D 

N.B.Bartlett 

Eev. E. H. Fairchild 

11. A. Cecil 

O. Beatty, LL. D 

CoL K. T. P. AUen, A. M., C. E 



STATISTICAL TABLES. 
DEPAKTilENTS IX THE UNITED STATES, &c.— Continued. 



45,3 





Denomination. 


Students. 


Cost of - 


i 

.s 

Q 

u 




.a 


g 

\ a 

\\ 

M 


i 

1 


i 
■a 

9i 



"3 


£ 
'3 

m 

to 


2 

« a 




1 
3 


a 


3 


p. 

•3 
H 


a 



a 

u 


Time of commencement 


54 
55 
56 
57 


M. E...3 
Univ... 
Cong... 1 


185 
9107 
5127 


40 

18 
26 


16 
9 


20 
4 
13 


15 
11 
13 


20 

"'•78 


28E 
15C 
15C 


18 

iio 


307 
156 
206 


$7 

33 

030 


$20 

18 
18 


27, 000 
3, 500 
6, 200 


4th Tuesday in June. 
3d Wednesday in June. 
4th Thursday in June. 


"iR 


Con-...l 

M. i^... 

C. P . . . 
Lvith 















324 

218 
140 


... 
43 

66 


324 
201 
200 










59 
60 
61 


7 39 
5 98 


14 
13 


14 

8 


10 

18 


6 
11 


178 
58 


8 
O2C-40 


18 
16-18 


8,500 


3d Thursday in Juno. 
2d Thursday iu June. 


62 
63 


U.P ... 1 
E.A .. 1 
Lnth .. 
M. E . . 


3147 
21 
3 31 


19 

10 

7 


13 
6 
2 


27 

8 


18 
4 


117 
195 


218 
104 
.58 


123 
60 


341 

244 

58 


a30 

6-8 


17 
12-16 


1, 500 

600 

7,000 


Last Thursday iu Juno. 
Last "Wcduesuay in June. 


fi^i 








66 


P.E. .. . 




























67 






























68 


Bapt. 




























69 
76 


U.B .. 


7 3 


4 


1 


1 




100 


128 


41 


169 


a24 


14 





2d Wednesday in Juno. 


71 


State .. . 


























































73 
74 


State ..1 

ILE... 
Pres ... 1 
Bapt . . . 


3 50 

fi 


46 


26 


27 


23 


130 


277 

80 
220 


31 

70 


308 

150 
226 


Free . . . 

9 
10 


16 

16 
14 


5,000 

2,000 
12, 000 


Thursday preceding 4th of 
July. 


75 
76 


3138 


33 


27 


10 


18 




3d Thursday in June. 


77 
78 
79 
80 

83 

84 


Meth .. 
Luth .. . 
M. E... 
I'res . . . 
U. B . . . 
Chr ...2 

Chr ... . 
Mfith r 


1 29 
60 
) 77 
? 47 
~ 17 
2113 

5 10 


84 
41 
68 
25 


13 
2 


4 

15 
39 
9 
1 
5 

2 


6 
19 
32 

10 

"3 




4 
13 
33 

7 
2 
9 


34 

■"84 

53 

201 

156 

129 


105 
148 
298 
157 
149 
219 

100 
195 


56 
35 

"74 

80 

51 
115 


101 
143 
333 
157 
223 
299 

151 
310 


4-15 

a24 

10 

Free . . . 

18 

14 

6-10 


15 

a60 

14-20 

(1144 

072-117 

18 

16 


'""3,' 666 

10, 000 
6,400 

300 


Juno 21. 
September 1. 
Juno 21. 

4th Thursday in Jimo. 
2d Tuesday in Juno. 
Juno 24. 

2d Wednesday in June. 


85 Bapt... J 
8(i K. C . . . 2f 


) 












7-15 

bl50 

6300 

15 


14 


' 'ii,'666 

3, 300 
4,000 




) 












421 
131 
56 


'77 


421 
208 
56 


Last Wednesday iu June. 


87 


Fr i 

U.C ... ■ 


3135 

r 19 


7 
7 


10 

8 


4 
15 


1 

7 


51 




88 
8<) 


15 


Last Thursday in June. 


90 






























91 






























9^ 


I'.apt... . 




























93 
94 
95 
90 


P.E .. ' 

Luth... { 


ri03 

) 86 


4 
28 


3 
12 


5 
5 


2 
5 




117 
130 




117 
130 


16 
Free . . . 


14 

7 


4,000 
1,000 


3d Wednesday in Juno. 
About Juno 15. 


Luth... 5 














53 

86 
174 

80 
229 
159 
253 


05 
84 
108 
73 

no 

109 

111 


118 
170 

2S2 
159 
345 
208 
304 










97 M. E... 1( 


)141 

>| 48 
il22 
);i30 
5118 
)102 

r 


17 
13 
4 

52 
15 
31 


13 
3 
42 
14 
6 


5 
6 
2 
28 
6 
6 






9 
20 
9 
5 
Free . . . 
7 


13 

8-16 
10-16 
12-20 
12-16 
12-10 


4,000 
7, Olio 
200 
5, 000 
1,500 
4,000 


4th Tuesday in June. 
2d Wednesday in July. 
2(1 Wcihiisday in June. 
Last Wiihicsday in Juno. . 
3(1 Wednesday in June. 
3d Tuesday in Juno. 


98 Con?... i; 

99I M. E... U 
100; Stato... 3( 
101! M. E... 1( 
in-2 M. E... J 
103 Bant... ' 


9 
2 
9 
11 
5 


193 

20 

78 

104 

214 


104 


Fr 




























105 


Unit... . 




























lor, 

107 


Cong... ( 
B.C ... i 
M. E... . 


) 8 

1 


9 


4 


2 




176 


114 
51 


85 


199 
51 


7 
6200 


10 


2, 500 
1,200 


2d Wednesday in June, 


108 


















109 
110 


Pn-s... ( 
State . . £ 
Bapt... . 


) 77 

> 


10 


6 


4 


3 




55 
97 


45 
116 


100 
213 


7-12 


3-4 


4,000 


Juno 20. 


111 






















113 
114 


ConjT... ( 
U.B... I 
11 


! 25 


6 




2 




35 


53 


15 


68 
130 
295 
102 
105 
112 


a30 

a30 

3 

6200 
a40 

alOO 


10-20 


2,000 


3d Wednesday in Juno. 


ir> 


22 


9 


5 






259 


188- 
162 
105 
112 


107 


7-10 


600 


2d Wednesday in July. 
2d Friday in June. 
Last Thursday in June. 
1st Monday in September. 


116 


li.C... i 
Pres ... ' 

State... ' 


117 
118 


95 
15 


17 
43 


20 
34 


8 
11 


7 
9 


18 


10-20 
O250 


5,500 



41 C E 



456 REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OP EDUCATION. 

Table IX^STATISTICS OF COLLEGES AND COLLEGLA.TE 



Name. 



Location. 



President 



119 

120 
121 
122 
12;) 
12 J 
125 
126! 
127] 
128, 
129 

130 

131 

132 

133 

134 

135 

13C 

137 

138 

139 

140 

141 

142 

143 

144 

14;. 

14! 

14 

148 

149 

150 

151 

152 

153 

154 

155 

1,5C 

157 

15y 

15!) 

ICO 

161 
1C2 
163 
164 
165 
160 
107 
109 
169 
170 
171 
172 
173 
174 
175 
170 
177 
178 
179 
180 
181 
.182 
183 
184 
185 



Georg'etown College 

Kent ucky University 

St. Clary's College , 

I'.ctlicl Colleso , 

'rii(mi]ison University 

Liiuisiana State University. . . 

liatdii KdHiic College 

St. Cliai^'sCdllege , 

Centenary ('(jllego 

Mount Lebanon University 

College of the Immaculate Con- 
ception. 

Lelaiiil University 

StraiLiht T'uivcrsity 

.Ti'ffrrsdU College 

ISowddin College 

Bates College 

('olby University 

St. Jolin's College 

Loyola College 

W.i.shincton College 

llock Hill College 

St. Charlrs College , 

:Mount St. Hilary '.s College 

■Mount St. ('l<>n"ient's College .. 

Calvrrt College 

iJorromeo College 

Freileriek College 

Western Jilaryland College 

Amber.st College 

Boston College 

Harvard College 

Tufts College 

Williams College 

College of the Holy Cross 

Adrian College 

Albion College 

Michigan University 

St. Philip's College 

Hillsdale College 

lloiie College 

Kalamazoo College 

Olivet College . .'. 



St. .Tohn'.s College 

Carletcm College 

Univirsity of Minnesota. 
Sini))lenroaddus College . 

^Mississijipi College 

Shaw University 

.Vlcorii T'niversity 

Oahlitnd (^dlege.'. 

TTni\ eisity ol Mississippi. 
I'ass Christian College . . . 

Madison Colli'go 

Tonpaloo University 

.Tefler.son College 

St. \'incent's College 

Univirsit V of Missouri . . . 

Centnil College 

Westminster College 

Lewis College 

Jetl'er.son City College 

William Jewell College 

Palmyra College 

St. (n'lailos College; 

Grand Kiver College 

Woodland College 

Lincoln College 



GeorgetoTsm, Ky 

Lexington, Ky 

Marion County, Ky. 

Itussellville, jLy 

Baldwin, La 

Baton Eouge, La 

do...".. 

Grand Coteau, La. . . 

Jackson, La 

Mount Lebanon, La. 
New Orleans, La 



do 

do 

St. Michael, La 

Brunswick, Me , 

Lewi.ston, Me 

WaterviUe, Me , 

Annapolis, Md 

Baltimore, Md , 

Chestertown, Md 

Ellicott City, Md 

do...:. 

Emmittsburgh, Md... 

Ik-hestor. Md , 

New Windsor, Md... 

Pike.sville, Md 

FrederiekCity, Md... 
Westminster,' Md.... 

Amherst, Mass 

Boston, Mass 

Cambridge, Mass 

College Hill, Mass... 
AVilliamstown, Mass . 

WoriM-ster, Mass 

Adrian, ]\Iioli 

Alliion.Mich 

Ann Arbor, Mich 

D.troit, Mich 

Hillsdale, ilich 

Holland, ;Mieh 

Kalamazoo, Mich 

Olivet, Mich 



Clinton, INIinn 

Northfield, Minn 

St. .\iithoiiv, Minn . .. 

Centre Hill. Miss 

Clint<in, Miss 

Holly Springs, Miss. . 

Jackson, Miss 

Oakland, Miss 

Oxi'ord, Miss 

I'ass Christian, Miss. 

Sharon, Miss 

N<ar Toniialoo, Miss . 
Wasliington, Miss . .. 
C;ipe Cirardeau, Mo.. 

Colund)ia. Mo 

Fayette, Mo 

Fulton, Mo 

Glasgow, Mo 

Jelferson City, Mo 

Liberty, Mo 

I'almvra, Mo 

St. ('harles, Mo 

Edinburgh. Mo 

Inde]ieudenee, Mo 

Greenwood, Mo 



1838 
1859 
1820 
1856 
1867 
1860 
1838 
1852 
1845 
1853 
1848 



Basil Manly, jr., D. D 

J. B. Bowman, A. M., regent . 
Eev. L. Elend, C. R., LL. D. . 

N.K.Davis, LL. D 

W.S.Wilson 

D.F.Boyd 



Rev.J.Eoduit, S.J... 
W.n.Watkins.D.D. 
S. C. McCormickle . . . 
Eev. J. Gautrelet 



1869 



E. E.S. Taylor, D.D. 



1802 
1863 
1820 
1784 
1852 
1782 
1857 
1848 
1830 
1868 
1852 
1860 
1796 
1867 
1821 
1863 
1638 
1855 
1793 
1843 
1858 
1860 
1841 



J. L. Chamberlain, LL. D 

Eev. O. B. Cheney, 1>. D 

J. T. Champlin, I). D 

J. M. Garnett, M. A 

Eev. S. A. Kelly, S.J 

E. C. Berkeley,' A. M 

Brother Bettelin 

Eev. S. Ferte, D.D 

Very Rev. J. McCaflrey, D. D... 
Eev. F. Van de Braak, C. S., S. E: 

A. H. Baker, A. M 

Eev. E. Q. S. Waldron 

J. S. Bonsall, A. M 

J. T.Ward, D.D 

W. A. Steams, D. D., LL. D . . 

Eev. E. Fulton, S. J 

C. AV. Eliot, LL. D 

A.A.Miner, D.D 

Eev. M. Hopkins, D. D., LL. D. . . 

Eev. A. F. Ciampi 

A. H. Lowrie, A. M 

G. B. Jocelyn, D. D 

J. B. Angeii, LL. D 



1855 
1855 



D. M. Graham, D. D 

Philip Phelps, D. D 

Eev. K. Brooks, D. D 

Eev. N. J. Morrison, D. D. 



1866 
1868 
1857 
18.51 
1871 
1871 
1830 
1848 
1806 
18.50 
1870 
1813 
1843 
1843 
1854 
1853 
1867 
1867 
1848 
1848 
1850 
18.58 
1869 
1869 



Eev. J. W. Strong, D. D 

W. W. Folwell, M. A 

W. W. Hawkins, A. ]\r 

Eev. W. Hillman, A. M , 

Eev. A. C. McDonald, A. M , 

Eev. H. R. Eevels , 

W. L. Breckenridge, D. D , 

J. N. Waddell, D. D 

Brother Isaiah 

Eev. J. M. Pugh, A. M , 

E. Tucker, A. M 

Prof. Hamilton 

Eev. J. Alizeri 

Daniel Eead, LL. D 

Eev. J. C. Wills, A.M 

Eev. N. L. Eice, D. D 

Eev. T. A. Parkei, A. M., M. D. .. 

Rev. W. H. D. Hatton 

Eev. T. Eambaut, LL. D., S. T. P. 

Eev. J. A. Wainwright, A. M 

J. J. Potts, A. M 

J. E. Vetrees 

W. A. Buckner 

G.S.Bryant , 



STATISTICAL TABLES. 

DEPARTMENTS IN THE UNITED STATES, &C.— Continued. 



457 





i - 
s > 


Students. 


Cost of— 


a 

a 

IB 

1 

13 






1 


a -a 

: t 

D 

3 & 


a 

a 

1 


m 

^^ 



a 


& 


i 

3 


i 
1 





P— • 

a 

m a 

0.2 
•§i 

M 





"3 

a 


3 


H 


0) 

1 
•3 


§ 
1 


Time of commencement. 


119 
1''0 


Bant . . . 

State 2 


7 47 

8 


43 


36 


11 


8 


.... 


145 

216 

58 
60 
30 
184 


'25 


145 
216 
58 
60 
55 
184 


a|45 
a30 
6200 


$18-20 
20 


5,500 
10, 000 


2<l Thursday in Juno. 
2d Thursday in Juno. 
1st Thursday in September. 


121 
122 
123 
124 
125 


K.C . 














Bapt 


















M. E... 
Stato. . . 1 


2 55 

8 28 
















1,000 
7,000 




10 


8 


5 


5 


128 


alOO 


a200 


Last Wednesday in Juno. 


EC 1 


1 . 












85 




85 


6200 






2d Wednesday in August. 


^"1 


Mcth 


















1"S 


Bapt. 




























191 


K. C . . . . 




























i;in 


Bapt . . . 




























vn 


1 



















1054 










132 
133 
134 

135 
136 




























Cong ..2 
P.B... 
Bapt . . . 

St.Tfo T 


6... 
9... 
7 ... 
70 
3 138 
2 16 



60 
24 
20 
24 
8 
9 


38 
23 
13 

22 
7 
5 


37 

27 
11 

10 
2 

1 


26 
14 
8 
6 
3 
2 




161 

87 
51 
138 
158 
33 
166 
160 
129 


i 
1 


161 

88 
52 
138 
158 
33 
166 
160 
129 


n60 
a36 
10 
6250 
a75 
40-60 
6260 
6180 
6310 


10-16 

a76-114 

12 


34, 150 
7,100 

12, 000 
3,000 

21, 500 
1,000 

'4,m 

5,000 
1,200 


2d Wednesday in July. 
Last Wcdnosilay in June. 
Last Tlinrsdav in July. 
Last W((hi(S(lav in July. 


137 11. 6 i 




138 -Stato .. 

139 K.C ...2 


16 


2d AVcdnesday in July. 

Last Thursday in Juno. 

July. 

Last Wednesday in Juno. 


140 K.C 1 















141 K.O... 1 


1 92 


18 


7 


7 


5 






140 


E.C ... 




143 


K.C... 
R.C 


8 












59 




59 


6240 




Last Tuesday in Juno. 


144 


















145 


Stato .. 
M. P...1 
Cong... 2 
R. C ... 1 


3 












103 

84 
201 
140 
043 

74 
141 
140 

99 
108 
458 


'43 

oi 

69 
25 


103 
127 
261 
140 
643 
74 
141 
140 
100 
177 
483 


030 

a20-110 

25 




1,200 

- 2, 000 

35, 000 




146 
147 

14H 


74 
0... 
0118 
6... 
4... 
1... 
96 
9 80 
5137 
J .. . 


30 
71 

9 
189 
14 
32 
20 

1 

n 

100 


13 

76 

2 

139 

15 

26 

11 

5 

7 

93 


6 
49 

9 

122 

17 

40 

11 

3 

9 
77 


4 
65 

iss 

8 

43 

2 

5 

13 

84 


'"2 
35 
20 

06 
69 


18 
14-24 


3d Thursday in Juno 

2d Thursday iu July. 


141 


ol50 

aOO 

25 

6250 

a20 

Free . . . 

Free . . . 


al52-304 
rtl30 
14-24 

12 

12 

8-20 


187, 000 
12, 000 
12, 000 

'"'i,'666 

25, 000 




150 
151 
152 
153 
154 
155 
156 


Univ . . 1 
Cong .. 1 
E.C ...1 
M. P... 
M.E .. 
State . . 3 


3d Wcdiicsilay in Jidy. 
Last Tliursila y in Jiule. 
Last Tluirsilay in Juuo. 
3d Thursday in June. 
Last Tlinrsday in Juno. 
Last Wednesday in Juno. 


157 

158 


F. W. B i 


1313 


19 


15 


9 


9 


220 


365 


220 


585 


alOO 


8-12 


3,000 


2d Thursday in June, 


159 
IGO 

161 


Bapt ... 1 
Cong . . 1 


2175 
I 27 


8 
14 


4 
17 


4 
6 


11 
3 


7 
166 


138 
134 


71 
99 


209 
233 


6 

7 


'""iil26 


2, 000 
4,000 


3d Wedncsdaj' in June. 
Last Thursday but ono in 
June. 


169 


Cong... . 
Stato .. 
Bapt. . . . 


5 52 


3 


1 








41 

242 


15 
93 


56 
335 


8 


11 
16 


968 
3,558 


Last Wednesday in Juno. 
Last Thursday in Juno. 


163 








164 
















165 
166 


Bapt... ' 
M.E... . 


ri20 


12 


11 


7 


3 




153 




153 


a50 


15-17 




Last Tuesday in June. 


167 






























168 


Pres .... 




























169 
170 


State . . 1( 
RC ...1^ 


; 11 


15 


20 


13 


18 


34 


111 
142 
47 




111 

142 

47 


Free . . . 

6330 
a30-50 


18 




Last Thursday in Juno. 


171 


1 40 


5 


2 








50-20 
10 


540 


3(1 Thursday in July. 


179 


( 








173 


























174 


R.C 




























175 

176 


State .. U 
M.E.S. ( 
Pros . . . ( 
M. E... ' 
P. E . . . . 


2118 

; 13 


48 


20 


22 


9 


"di 


177 

104 
10 


40 


217 
104 
90 
92 


a40 

25 

a50 

a40 


12-20 

10 

13 

al50 


5,000 
"2,606 


Last Wednesday in June. 


177 










3(1 Thursday in June. 
4th Thursday in June. 
1st Wednesday in Jane. 


178 














58 


34 


17!) 














180 


Bapt... ' 

p.E ... ; 

M.E.S. ; 














152 




152 

00 


aOO 


12-10 


4,000 
800 


181 
















182 
























183 


















100 
93 
40 










184 


< 


























165 




J... 






... 







... 


... 











458 REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 

Table IX.— STATISTICS OF COLLEGES AND COLLEGIATE 



Ifame. 



LocaXion. 



President. 



186 
187 
188 
189 
190 
191 
192 
193 
194 
195 
196 
197 
198 
199 
200 
801 
202 
203 
204 
205 

206 
207 
208 
•209 
210 
211 

212 
213 
214 
215 
216 
217 
218 
219 
220 
221 

222 
223 
224 
225 
226 

227 
228 
229 
230 
231 
232 
233 
234 
235 
230 
237 
238 
239 
240 
241 
242 
243 
244 
245 
240 
247 
S48 



St. Paul's College 

Bethel CoUepe 

Hannibal College 

McGee College 

Johnson College 

St. Joseph's College 

St. Louis University 

"Washington Uni^'ersity 

College of the Christ'n Brothers 

Congregational College 

Kebraska ( 'ollcgo 

Dartmouth Colicge 

Burlington College 

Eutgers College 

College of New Jersey 

Seton Hall College 

Alfred University 

Franciscan College 

St. Stephen's College 

Brooklyn Collegiate and Poly 
technic Institute. 

St. John Baptist's College 

Canisius College 

St. Joseph's College 

Martin Luther College 

St. Lawrence University 

Hamilton College 



Palmyra, Mo 

Palmyra, Mo 

Hannibal, Mo 

College Mound, Mo. . . 

Macon City, Mo 

St. Joseph, Mo 

St. Louis, Mo , 

, do 

St. Louis, Mo 

FonteneUe, Nebr 

Nebraska City, Nebr. . 

Hanover, N. H , 

Burlington, N. J 

New Brunswick, N. J . 

Princeton, N. J 

South Orange, N. J . . . 

Alfred, N.Y , 

Allegheny, N. Y , 

Annandale, NT 

Brooklyn, N. T 



do 

Buffalo, N. Y . 

, do 

do 

Canton, N. Y . 
Clinton, N. Y . 



1869 

1848 
1808 
1834 
18G8 
1867 
1832 
1857 
1857 



Eev. E. Rose, A. M 

Kev. "W. B. Corbin. 

J. F. Hamilton 

J.B.Mitchell 

E. W.Hall 

Brother jVgatho 

Bev. J. ([.Zealand, S.J. 

W. C. Klicit, D.D 

Brother Edward 



1868 
1769 
1846 
1770 
1746 
1856 
1836 



Eev. J. McNamara, D. D 

Eev. A. D. Smith, D. D., LL. D 
Et. Eev.W. H. Odenbeimer, D. D. 
Eev. W.H.Campbell, D.D.,LL.D 
Eev. J. McCosh, D. D., LL. D . . . 
Very Eev. M. A. Corrigan, D. D. 
Eev. J. Allen 



St. John's College 

Hobart College 

Madison University 

Cornell University 

Genesee College 

College of the City of New York 

College of St. Francis Xavier. . 

Columbia College 

Manhattan College 

University of the City of New 
York. 

St. Joseph's College 

University of Eochester 

Union College 

Syracuse University 

Eensselaer Polytechnic Insti- 
tute. 

University of North Carolina. . 

Wake Forest College 

Eutherford College 

Olin College 

Davidson (College 

North Carolina College 

Trinity College 

Buohtel College 

Ohio University 

Baldwin University 

German Wallace College 

St. Xavier College 

:Mount St. :\Iary's of the West. 

Fanners' College 

Capitol University 

Kenyon College 

Denison University 

Harlem Springs College 

Western Keserve College 

St. LouLs ( .'ollege 

Marietta College 

Mount Union Collego 



Fordham, N. Y 

Geneva, N. Y 

Hamilton, N.Y 

Ithaca, N.Y 

Lima, N. Y 

New York City, N. Y. 

do 

do 

do 

do 



1860 
1854 

1670 
1870 
1862 
1853 
1856 
1812 

1846 
1825 
1819 
1868 
1849 
1854 
1847 
1754 
1803 
1831 



Eev. E. B. Fairbairn, D. D... 
D. H. Cochran, Ph. D., LL. D . . . 



Eev. J. T. Landry, CM 

Eev. W. Becker, "S. J 

Brother Frank 

Eev. J. F. Winkler 

E. Fisk, ir., D. D 

Eev. S. G. Brown, D. D., LL. D. 



Eev. J. Shea, S. J 

Eev. J. Eankine, D. D . . 
E. Dodge, D. D., LL. D 
A. D. White, LL. D 



Ehinecliff, N. Y 

Eochester, N. Y 

Schenectady, N. Y. . 

Syracuse, N. Y 

Troy.N.Y 



1850 
1795 

1870 



A. S. Webb, LL. D 

Eev. H. Hudon, S.J 

F. A. P. Barnard, S. T. D., LL. D. 

Brother Patrick 

Howard Crosby, D. D 



Eev. M.J. Scully 

M. B. Anderson, LL. D . 
Eev. E. N. Potter, D. D. 
D. Steele, D. D, (acting). 



Chapel HiU, N. C 

Forestville, N C 

Happv Home P. O., N. C. 

IredeilCountv, N. C 

Mecklenburgh County,N.C 

Mount Pleasant, N. C 

Eandolph County, N. C 

Akron, Ohio 

Athens, Ohio 

Berea, Ohio 

Cincinnati, Ohio 

do 

do 

College Hill, Ohio 

Columbus, Ohio 

Gambler, Ohio 

Granville, Ohio 

Harlem Spriiig.s, Ohio 

Hudson, Ohio 

Louisville, Ohio 

Marietta, Ohio 

Mount Union, Ohio 



1795 
1834 
1870 
1853 
1837 
1859 
1850 



1804 
1856 
1803 
1842 
1851 
184G 



1824 
1831 
18G7 
1826 
1866 
1835 
1846 



S.Pool 

W. M. Wingate, D.D 

Eev. E. L. Abernethy, A. M 

J. Southgate 

Ee i'. G. W. McPhail, D. D., LL. D. 

Eev. L. A. Bikle, A. M 

Eev. B. Craven, D.D 

Eev. H. F. Miller, Sec 

Eev. S. Howard, D. D., LL. D. . . . 

W. D. Godman, D. D 

W. Nast, D.D 

Eev. T. O'Neil 

F. J. Pabish, D. D., LL. D., D.C.L 

C.D.Curtis 

Eev. W. F. Lehman 

E.T. Tappan 

Eev. S. Talbot, D. D 



C. Cutler A.M 

F. Hours 

I. W. Andrews, D. D 

Roy, 0. N. Hartshorn, LL. D. 



STATISTICAL TABLES. 



459 



DEPAHTMENTS IN THE UNITED STATES, &C.— Continued. 





Denomination. 
Number of instructors. 


Students. 


Cost of— 


a 
.3 







1 


a 
t, 



1 


d 

1 


i 

a 


.a 

A 



1 




s 

m 


2 

p. 

. 

l§ 

3 
5 


0) 

3 


00 

a 


3 

H 


a 

P. 
1 


"S 



a 




Time of commencement. 


186 


i 


















70 
80 
80 
213 
60 










1B7 




























18S 


^ 


























180 


1 


























ion 




\ 
























101 


E C 




























K.C ...2- 


2124 
?104 


21 
10 


6 
6 


7 
5 


3 

4 


185 


161 
314 




161 
314 


6280 
a45 




16, 000 
6,000 


Last Thursday in Jano. 
3d Thursday in June. 


10l' 




101 


II.C 




lO") 






























196 
197 
198 
199 
200 
"01 


p.e"... 

Cong... 2 
P.E ... 
Ilef....l 
Prea . . . 1 
RC ... 1 
Bapt... 2 


j 9 
3... 












20 
3C0 




29 
360 


6$280 




1,500 
44, 900 


Last Thursday in .Tuno. 
Last Thursday in June. 


60 


75 


78 


69 


78 


$10-16 


3195 

8... 
5 58 
1 9U 


54 
87 
14 
33 


47 
106 

8 
27 


50 
87 
8 
15 


33 
95 
12 
5 


'"5 
30 
328 


385 
380 
130 
160 


222 


385 

380 
130 
408 


a75 

al40 

6400 

10 


16-24 
16-24 


'36,' 066 
8, 000 
6,000 


3d Wednead.ay in Juno. 
Last Wfdncsd.ay in Juno. 


202 
"0? 


6-12 


1st AVeduesday in July. 


204 
"O'i 


P.E ... 
2 


8 27 
6 438 


14 


10 


15 


8 


i24 


74 
562 




74 
562 


Free .. 
al20 


a225 


1,800 
3,000 


1st Thursday in July. 
3d Wednesday in June. 


W6 


RC 












"07 


R.C ... 
RC ... 1 
Luth 


6 












62 
291 




62 
291 


a50 
6220 








20S 


4 














2,000 


July 2. 


'>no 
















210 
211 

212 
213 
214 
215 

"16 


Univ . . 1 
Pres... 1 

RC ...2 
P.E ... 
Bapt... 1 

3 

M.E... 
City... 3 
RO ...2 
P.E ... 1 
RC ...4 

3 


3... 
2... 

1... 
9... 

2 51 
8... 

4 ... 
6 410 
o271 
2... 

3 448 

5 .. . 


11 
45 

14 
34 
10 

8 
153 
37 
31 

27 
27 


14 
39 

"i 

22 

6 
72 
29 
32 
29 
31 


6 
39 

is 

40 
4 

10 
49 
17 
25 
15 
21 


10 
41 

"7 
16 
5 
7 

39 
10 
29 
11 
28 


6 

'449 
25 

107 

ioi 


27 
104 

265 
39 
105 
490 
48 
723 
477 
117 
631 
107 


20 


47 
164 

265 
39 
105 
490 
50 
723 
477 
117 
631 
107 


<125 
20 

6300 

15 

a30 

a45 


12 
all4-190 

""16-26 

12 

a220 


6,666 
12, 000 

13, 666 
10, 4r>4 

30, 000 
5, 300 
20, 000 
14, 000 
2,000 
0,500 
3,000 


Last "Wednesday in Juno. 
Thursday aftcr'last Tues- 
day iuJune. 
Last Wednesday in June. 
2d Thiusday aitVr 4th July. 
3(1 Wednesday in Jnn(!. 
4th Thursday in Juno. 
2d Tliursdav in .luly. 


"17 


Free . 




Last Thursday in June. 


"18 


06O 






"10 




Last Wednesday in Jime. 

June 30. 

2d Thui'sday before July 4. 


220 


(i50 
Preo . . 


30 


ooo 


RC 








223 

224 
225 


Bapt... 
Pres . . . t 
M.E... 
1 


9... 
6... 
7 ... 
9 


23 
20 
29 


22 
25 

8 


19 

25 

6 


24 
19 
17 


33 


121 
89 
51 


"9 


121 

89 
60 


20 
15 
20 


14-20 
13-20 
18-20 


'19,066 
1,395 


Last "Wednesd.iy in June. 
Wednesday before 4th July. 
4th Thursday in June. 


007 


State .. 
Bapt... 
Meth .. 


6 












55 
100 
95 


'28 


55 
100 
123 


a40 
a70 
a50 


12 
10-12 
7-10 


21, 700 

8,000 

200 




00a 


6 














ooq 


7 14 










109 


1st Wednesday in August. 


230 
231 
232 
233 
934 










Pres . . . 
Luth .. 
M.E.S 
Univ... 


7... 

5 70 

6 2i. 


22 
6 
34 


3f 

6 

21 


16 

'is 


32 

2 
IC 


6 
"54 


112 

84 
165 




112 

84 
165 


(145 

a20-40 

a65 


14 

8-10 
10-13 


3,000 
1,200 


Last Thursday in June. 
Last Thursday in May. 
3d Thursday in Juno. 


93^ 


State .. 
M.E... 
M.E. .. 
R.C ... 
RC ... 
Meth . . 


5 67 

1 20 

5 


9 

5 


6 
3 


5 
3 


5 
G 


29 
169 


121 
110 
74 

269 
80 


'96 

19 


121 

200 

93 

269 

80 


10 
a21 
4-9 
aOO 




5,000 
1,000 
000 
12, 000 
10, 000 


Last Friday in .Juno. 


93f 






937 




Second Thursday in Juno. 
Last Wednesday in Juno. 
Juno 24. 


9.38 


7 188 
6... 


34 


21 


17 


fl 







239 
94fl 


If 


941 


Luth... 




























242 
243 
?44 


P.E... 
Bapt... 


2 47 
8 49 


13 

22 


13 
14 


! 
13 


10 

7 




97 


92 
202 


... 


92 
202 


o42 
a34 


12-10 
12 


18, 320 
10, 500 


Last Thursd.ay in June. 
Last Thursday in June. 


24S 




11 41 


le 


17 


20 


14 




109 




109 


a30 


10-16 


10, 000 


Last Wednesday in Juno. 


94f 




R. C 


24- 
24t 


C. & P. 
M.E... 


9 9-; 

19 3C 


33 

17-; 


26 
93 


13 
40 


n 

54 


•272 


183 

lilt 


... 
246 


183 
664 


o38 
13 


10-10 
0IO8 


23, 350 
3,400 


Wednesday before July 4. 
Last Thursday in July. 



460 REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 

Table IX.— STATISTICS OF COLLEGES AND COLLEGIATE 



Name. 



Location. 



President. 



249 
250 
Sol 
252 
253 
254 
255 
256 
257 
258 
259 
260 
261 
262 
263 
264 
265 
266 
268 
269 
270 
271 
272 
273 
274 
275 
276 

277 
278 
279 

280 
281 
282 
283 
284 
285 
286 
287 
288 
289 
290 
291 

292 
293 
294 
295 
296 
29 

298 

299 

300 

301 

MO 

,303 

,304 

|305 

.306 

i307 

1308 

.309 

c9l0 



Pranlilin College 

Muskingum College 

Oberlin College 

Miami University 

Eicbmond College 

Wittenberg College 

Ileidelbcrg College 

TJrbana University 

Otterbein University 

AVilloughby College 

University of Wooster 

Antioch College 

Wilberforce University 

Xonia College 

Ohio "Wesleyan University . 

New Market College 

Ohio Central College 

Iliram College 

Pacific University 

Oregon College 

TViilametto University 

Holy Angels College 

Philomath College 

Avery College 

Muhl'enbei-g College- 

Andalusia College 

Lebanon -Valley College 



Moravian College 

Dickinson CoUeM 

Angustinian College of Villa- 
nova. 

Lafayette College 

Pennsylvania College 

Franklin and Marshall College 

Lewisburgb University 

St. Francis College 

Allegheny College 

Mercersburgh College 

Palatinate College 

Westminster College 

Lincoln University 

Maimonidcs College 

Department of Arts, University 
of Pennsylvania. 

La Salle CoUego 

St. Joseph's College 

Western University 

Lehigh University 

Swarthmoro College 

Washington and Jefferson Col- 
lego. 

Waynesburgh College 

lla verf ord College 

St. Vincent's (College 

Ursiiius College 

IJrown University 

(4>llcgo of Charleston 

University of South Carolina. . 

Fnrman University 

(Uatliii I'liiver.sity 

Wolloid College." 

Niwbcrry (College 

Eimt Tennessee W.esleyap 
University. -• ■ •• 

^KiugCpUege ., 



New Athens, Ohio 

Nevr Concord, Ohio 

Oberlin, Ohio 

Oxford, Ohio 

Eichmond, Ohio 

Springfield, Ohio 

TitBn.Ohio 

Urbana, Ohio 

Westerville, Ohio 

Willoughby, Ohio 

Wooster, Ohio 

Yellow Springs, Ohio.. 

Near Xenia, Ohio 

Xenia, Ohio 

Delaware, Ohio 

Scio P. O., Ohio 

Iberia, Ohio 

Iliram, Ohio 

Forest Grove, Oreg 

Oregon City, Oreg 

Salem, Oreg 

Vancouver, Oreg 

Philomath, Oreg 

Allegheny City, Pa 

Allentown, Pa 

Andalusia, Pa 

AnnvUle, Pa 



1822 

1837' 

1834 

1809 

1835 

1844 

185U 

185: 

1857 

1855 

1870 

1854 

1863 

1850 

1842 

1859 

1854 

1867 

1859 

1850 

1853 



A. F. Eoss, LL. D 

Eev. D. Paul, A. M 

Eev. J. H. Fairchild, D. D . 

Eev. A. D. Hepburn 

L. W. Ong, A. M 

Eev. S. Sprechcr, D. D 

Eev. G. W. Willard, D. D. . 

Eev. F. Sewall, A. M 

Eev. L. DavLs, D. D 

L.O.Leo 

Eev. W. Lord, D. D 

G. W. Hosmer, D. D 

Et. Eev. D. A. Payne, D. D 

Wm. Smith, A. M 

Eev. F. Merrick, D. D 

A.D.Lee,A.M 

KF.Eeed 

B. A. Hinsdale, A. M 

Eev. S.n. Marsh, D. D . . . . 

G. C. ChamUer, D. D 

T. M. Gatch, A. M 



Prof. Biddle 



Bethlehem, Pa 

Carlisle, Pa 

Delaware County, Pa. 



Easton, Pa 

Gettysburgh, Pa 

Lancaster, Pa 

Lewisburgh, Pa 

Loretto, Pa 

MeadviUe, Pa 

Mercersbursrh, Pa 

Myerstown, Pa 

New Wilmington, Pa. 

Oxford, Pa 

Philadelphia, Pa 

do 



1867 
1861 
1866 

1807 
1783 

1848 

1820 
1832 
1853 
184' 
1850 
1815 
1865 



Eev. F. A. Muhlenberg, D. D . 

Eev. H. T. Wells, LL. D 

L. H. Hammond, A. M 



1852 
1854 



Et. Eev. E. de Schweinitz, D. D. 

Eev. E. L. Dashiell, D. D 

Very Eev. P. A. Stanton, 0. S. A 



Eev.W.C.Cattell,D.D. 

M. Valentine, D. D 

Eev. J. W. Nevin, D. D . . . 
Eev. J. E. Loomis, LL. D 

Eev. A. J. Brownam 

Eev. G. Loomis, D. D 

Eev. B. E. Higby, D. D . 
Eev. H. E. Nicks, A. M. . , 

E. A. Brown, D. D 

Eev. L N. EendaU, D. D . 



do 

do 

Pittsburgh, Pa 

South Bethlehem, Pa. 

Swarthmore, Pa 

Washington, Pa 



Waynesburgh, Pa , 

West Haverford, Pa 

Westmoreland County, Pa 

Freeland, Pa 

Providence, E. I 

Charleston, S. C 

Columbia, S. C 

Greenville, S. C , 

Orangeburgh, S. C 

SiiartanburghC. H., S. C, 

AValhalla, S. C „... 

Athens, Tenn 



Bristol, Tenn , 



1755 

1862 
1852 
1819 
1866 
1869 
1802 

1850 
1833 
1846 
1869 
1764 
178' 
1801 
1851 
1869 
1851 
1859 
1867 

1869 



C.J.Stm6,LL.D. 



Brother Oliver 

Eev. P. A Jordan, S.J. 

G. Woods, LL.D 

KCoppee, LL.D' 

E.H.McGill 

Eev. G. P. Hays, D. D . 



A. B. MiUer, D. D 

S. J. Gummere, A. M 

Eev. A. Heimler, O. S. B 

J. H. A. Bomberger, D. D 

Eev. A. Caswell, D. D., LL. D. . . . 

N. E. Middleton 

Hon. E. W. Barnwell, LL. D '. 

J.C. Furraan, D. D 

A. Web.ster, D. D '. 

Eev. A. M. Shipp, A. M., D. D . .: 

Eev, J. P. Smeltzer, A. M 1 

Eev, N. E. Cobleigh, D, D '. 



Eev. J. D. Tadlock. 



"A 



STATISTICAL TABLES. 

DEPAHTMENTS HT THE imiTED STATES, &C.— Continnod. 



461 





2 

c 

£ 

B 1 

.2 ■- 
« c 

a ^ 
§ e 

^ 


Students. 


Cost of— 


2 
.9 




;zi. 


a 

1 

a 

u 

1 


a 

a 


1 
i 
-a 


e 
1 


s 


'a 


i 

2 

a 

l§ 

00 

,=1 




3 


CO 

"a 

a 


'a 
I 




J 


a 


a 

1 




Time of commencement. 


249 


U. P... 














58 


13 


71 


af30 


$12-16 




Last Thursday in June. 


"50 














251 
252 


Cong ..'2 
State . . 


3G78 
i 45 
1 20 

r 90 

3120 


01 
17 
31 

24 

18 


30 

18 
14 
19 

18 


30 
17 

19 
5 


40 
19 
4 
17 
16 


328 
23 

25 

8 


050 
139 
55 
177 
147 


517 
52 
'36 


1173 
139 
107 
177 
177 


3 

a45 

10 

a30 

a26 


10 
18-20 
12 
10 
10 


10, 000 
9,000 

0, 666 

4,800 


First Wednesday in Aug. 
Last Tliursday in Juno. 
Third Wednesday in Juno. 
Last Thursday in June. 
June 21. 


254 
255 

"% 


Lutb... 
Ref. ... 
N Ch 


o!j7 


U.B... 


7 20 

3 27 


14 
33 


10 
18 


12 
11 


10 
4 


70 

18 


87 
49 


49 
02 


130 
111 

72 
215 
100 
170 
417 
155 

92 
169 

98 


alO 

8 

15 

a38 

5-7 

12 

a54 

15 

i;130-200 

(/200-300 

a33 


12 




1st Wednesd'y after May 26. 
Juno 22. 


'>=i8 


12-16 

16 

al33 

0-12 

10 

14-18 

10 


3,000 

2, 500 

4,700 

3,500 

350 

13, 03G 

500 

500 

?,000 

5,000 


'>59 




Pres . . . 
Unit . . . 1 
A.M.E. 
Moth . . 
M.E... 


Last Wednesday in June. 
Last Wednesday in Juno. 
Juno 21. 
June 19. 


200 
2C1 


3 65 
a 83 
7 27 
[) 74 
. 20 
4... 
.. 


12 



6 


4 
4 


3 

4 


125 

149 
151 


110 
62 
39 

417 

105 
63 

125 
04 


99 
38 
137 

"50 
29 
44 
34 


203 


64 
100 


40 
21 


37 
14 


45 


Last Thursday in June. 


•>fi5 


TJ.P... 
Clir....l 




.... 


June 22. 


fCC 




June 22. 


%R 


7 33 


4 


2 


2 




57 


also 


J'irst Wednesday in June. 


'>()') 




270 
"71 


M.E... 1 


3188 


9 


10 


1 


3 


45 


129 


127 


250 


15 


16-2 


050 


Tliird Tliursday in June. 


070 




















70 










97'< 




























274 
975 


Luth... 
P. E...1 
U.B... 

Mor .... 


9 10 
I 55 
7 20 


18 


18 
13 
5 


13 
5 
5 


14 

4 


63 

"si 


142 

77 
93 


'24 


142 

77 
117 


a45 
6300 
a47 


al50 


2,800 
400 


Last Thursday in June. 


27G 
077 


10 


Last Thursday but one in 
Juno. 


278 


M.E... 
E. C...1 

Pres ... 2. 
iuth .. 1 
G.K... 
Bapt... 
E. C . . . . 


8... 


20 


31 


20 


18 


30 


125 
110 

231 

177 
124 
150 


io 


125 
110 

231 

177 
134 
150 


a40 
6250 

15 

13 

13 

a36 


10-10 


25, 503 
4,000 

8,000 
17, 800 
8,000 
5,000 


Last Thursday in June. 
Last Wednesday in June. 

3d Wednesday in June. 
Last Thursday in Juno. 
Last Thur.silay iu June. 
Last Tuesday in Jiuio. 


280 
281 

282 
283 

"84 


5 . . . 
1 63 
7 59 
30 


83 
34 
17 

29 


61 
26 
16 
15 


32 
31 

23 
16 


38 
23 
14 

20 


11 

"46 


20-24 
al37 
14-18 
12-10 


285 
9R6 


M.E... 
G.E... 
G.E... 
U.P... 
Pres . . . 1 


25 
6 63 



21 
19 


15 
10 


11 

8 


20 
2 


'"s 


85 
96 
233 
100 
158 


7 

14 
50 
04 


192 
210 
283 
130 
158 


""6266 

a32 

a25 

10 


16 


12, 000 


June 20. 

2d Wednesday in Juna 


987 


al54 

8-10 

10 


000 

1,500 

28, 000 


2d Thursday in Juno. 


288 
289 
"90 


C 52 
8 71 


35 
34 


32 

22 


16 

18 


31 
15 


04 


Last Thursday in June. 
3d Wednesday in Juno. 


991 


State . . 3 

E. C . . . 1 
E.C ... 
] 


0... 
5 


31 


30 


38 


20 


62 


187 

21a 
340 
217 
116 
134 
118 


'94 


187 

212 
340 
217 

lie 

228 
118 

275 

51 

227 

120 

225 

50 

70 

50 

103 

130 

80 

143 










CfC\.-> 


aOO-80 

'18-25 

Free . . 

6350 

8 

al2 




3,000 
7,500 
2,600 
2,000 


End of June. 


99^ 


8 












10-15 
16-24 

20 


1st Monday in July. 


994 


6... 
5 48 
. 173 
39 




11 
38 
30 
30 


27 
13 
18 
14 


17 

9 
7 
10 


9 

8 


153 


295 
996 


P. E . . . 1 

Er 

Pres . . . 1 

C.P ... 1 

Fr 

-R.C.i 
Eef .... 
Bapt. ,. 1 


Last Tliursday in June. 
Last Wcdiirsday iu Juno. 


297 
"98 


19 


.... 


9-16 
12-14 


"'7,' 857 
6,000 

' '38," 666 

8,000 
27, 000 


Wednesday before July 3. 

2d Thursday in September. 
July 12. 


999 


5... 
■2 23 
6 98 
3 ... 
5 . 


8 

'i3 

50 


10 

"3 

78 


20 
41 


13 


'264 


51 

227 
120 
225 
50 
70 
50 
73 
136 
86 
100 

162 


'36 
'43 


300 
?01 


10 

a48 
a75 
a40 
a45 


10 

15 

13-32 


Last Wednesday in Juno. 
Last Tliursday in June. 


302 
?0? 


50 




Last AVo(hiis<'lay in Juno. 


304 


State .. 
Bapt . . . 
M.E... 
M.E.S. 
Liith... 
M.E... 

» 


4 












14 


Last Monday iu June* 


4 












inr 



















200 
2,000 

366 




307 
Tflf 


7 42 
4 79 
9 35 

6 


22 

2 
14 


24 
3 
11 


22 
2 
5 


15 


11 


32 

a45 
a46 


15 
12 
12 

14 


Last Wednesday in Juno. 
Last Thursday in Juno. 
2d Wednesday in Juno. 

Last Wednesday but ono la 

;':. May, 


30S 


( 


73 


-> 

















462 REPORT OP THE COMMISSIOJTER OF EDUCATION. 

Table EC.— STATISTICS OF COLLEGES AND COLLEGIATE 



Name. 



Location. 



Presidents 



312 

313 
314 

31j 
31C 
317 

318 

310 
3211 
321 
322 
323 

324 
32,-) 
32C 
327 
328 
32!) 
33(1 
31! 1 
3:i2 
3;i3 
334 
335 
33(1 

337 

338 
330 
340 
341 

342 

343 

344 

34 

340 

347 

348 

350 

35] 

352 

353 

354 

355 

35( 

357 

358 

359 
3G0 
3G1 
3C2 
303 
3C4 
. 3G5 
3G(i 
367 
3C8 
3G9 
970 
371 
372 



Greenville and Tusculum Col- 
lego. 

"West Tennessee University . . . 

■Toncsbonmi;!! (>)llc<;o 

ICast Tciiiicssc'c X'uiversitv 

J'lisliN tiiian Syii'idical Collogo 

CiunbiilMiul T'niversity 

Lodkdut 2\Ii)uutaiu Educational 
Iiistitiitioii. 

Ili.iwasscc College 

Miiryvillc ('oUcge 

Uuioii I'liivcTsity 

Central Tennessee College 

College of Arts, University of 
Nashville. 

risk University 

Franklii< College 

University of the South 

St. Joseph's College 

Colorado College 

University of St. Mary 

Araiiama College 

Henderson College 

IJiiylor Univer.sity 

St. Mary's College 

Waco University 

Univer.sity of Vermont 

Middlebnry College 



Green villo, Tenn. 



1809 



Norwich University 

lianiio)])!! Macon College 

ITiiiviisity of Virginia 

Emory and Henry College 

Washington and Leo Univer- 
sity. 

Uampden Sidney College 

llicbiiiniid College 

lloaiiokc College 

(.'ollcgr of William and Mary. 
Viruiiiia Military Institute... 

St. .lolui's (^'olleg'o , 

Bethany College 

West Virginia University 

St. Vincent's College 

West Virginia College 

La \vri'n( r I University 

Wavland University 

I'.eloitCoUi'ge 

Galesville University 

Janesvillo College 

University of Wisconsin 



Pio None College 

^lilton College 

Itacinc College 

i;i|ion<'ollrge , 

St. Jt>lm's College 

Northwestern University 

Carroll College 

Georgetown ('ollego 

Columbian Collegn 

Gonzaga College 

Howard University 

Santa F6 University 

University of Deseret 

WaaUingtpii University . . 



Jaelcson, Tenn 

Jonesborough, Tenn 

Knoxvillo, Tenu 

Lagrange, Tenn 

Lebanon, Tenu 

Lookout Mountain, Ton. . 



!Madisonvillo, Tenn 

Mary ville, Tenn 

Murfreesborough, Tenn... 

Nashville, Tenn 

do 



18G5 
1807 
I85G 
1842 
18CG 



Rev. "W. S. Doak, A.M 

Eev. E. L. Patton, A. M , 

H. Presnell, A. M 

Rev. T. W. Humes, S. T. D 



B. W. McDonnald, I). 1)., LL. D. 
Rev. C. F. P. Bancroft, A. M 



.do 



Near Nashville, Tenn. 

Sewanee, Tenn 

Brownsville, Texas . . . 

Columbus, Texas 

Galveston, Texas 

Goliad, Texas 

Henderson, Texas 

Independence, Texas . 
San Antonio, Texas . . . 

Waco, Texas 

Burlington, Vt 

Middlebnry, Vt 



Northfield. Vt . . . . 

Ashland, Va 

Univ. of Va. P. O. 

Emory, Va 

Lexington, Va 



1819 
1848 
18GG 
180G 

180' 
1844 

1808 



J. B. Greiner, A.M 

Rev. P. M. Bartlett, A. M 

G.W.Jarman, A.M 

Rev. J. Bradon, A. M 

E. K. Smith 



A. K. Spence, A. M. 

A.J. Fanning 

Gen. Gorgas 



185' 
1850 
1852 
1871 
1845 



Rev. J. J. Scherer, A.M.. 
Brother Boniface, S. S. C 
J. E. C. Doromus, D. D . . . 

G.U. Gould 

W. C. Crane, D. D 



Prince Edward County, Va 

Richmond, Va 

Salem, Va 

Williamsburgh, Va 

Lexington, Va 

Norfolk, Va 

Bcthanv, W. Va 

J\Ion:antown, W. Va 

Wherling, W. Va 

Flcniington, W. Va 

Apple ton. Wis 

Beaver Dam, Wis 

Beloit, Wis 

Galesville, Wis 

Jauesville, Wis 

Madison, Wis 



1861 

i797 

1834 
1831 
1825 
1838 
1782 

1776 
1844 
1853 
1693 
1839 



Rev. R. C. Burleson, D. D. 

M. n.Buckham 

Rev. H. D. Kitchol, D. D . 



Rev. R. S. Howard, D. D 

Rev. J. A. Duncan, A. M., D. D. 

C. S. Venable, LL. D 

Rev. E. E.Wiley, D.D...., 

Gen. G. W. C. Lee 



B. Puryear, AM 

B. Puryeai, A. M 

Rev.D.F.Bittle, D.D. 

B. S. Ewoll 

Gen. F. H. Smith 



1841 
1808 
1865 



1847 
1854 
184 
1859 



St. Francis, Wis 

Milton, Wis 

Racine, Wis 

Ripon, Wis 

Prairie du Chicn, Wis 

Watertown, Wis 

Waukesha, Wis 

Georgetown, D. C 

Washington, D. C 

do 

.... do 

Santa F6, N. M 

Salt Lake City, Utah Ter. 
^eattloj Wasli. Te?- , 



1848 

1871 
1844 
1852 
1803 
1865 
1804 
1846 
1792 
1822 
1848 
1867 
1870 
1868 
1801 



W. K. Pendleton 

Rev. A. Martin, D. D 

Rev. A. Louago 

Rev. W. Colegrove, A. M . . . 
Rev. G. M. Steele, D. D . . . . 

A. S. Ilutchens 

Rev. A. L. Ch.apin, D. D 

Rev. H. GiUiland, A.M 

A. L. Reed 

J. U. Twombly, D. D 



Rev. J. S.alzmann, D. D 

Rev. W. C. Whitford, A. M. . 

Rev. J. Do Koven, D. D 

Rev. W. E. Merriman, A. M . . 

Brother Benedict 

Rov. A. F. Ernest, A. M 

Rev. W. D. F. Lummis A. M 

Rov. J. Early, S. J 

J. C. Welling, LL. D 

Rev.J.ClarK 

Gen. (). O. Howard, LL. D . . . 

Rev. D. F. McFarland 

J.R.Park, M.D 

J. B. Sail ,, 



STATISTICAL TABLES. 
DEPARTMENTS IN THE UNITED STATES, &c.— Continned. 



463 





d 

s 

a 





1 

to 

.3 
'0 

a 
5 


Students. 


Cost of— 


1 

.a 

s 

1 

n 

M 

"A 




O 


a 
1 

1 

C-i 


a 




e 


■a 





1 
1-5 



1 

CO 


2 

p. 



.a" 
u 

n 

.a 








1 


3 






l-r 
P( 

H 


§ 

a 
p< 


Time of commencoment. 


312 

313 
314 
315 
316 
317 
318 

319 
320 
321 
322 
323 

324 
325 
326 
327 
328 
329 
330 
331 
332 
33T 


Pres . . . 














65 




05 






























M.E... 


3 
12 














5 
167 


60 


65 
167 










113 


26 


15 


9 


4 


.... 


a$36 


$8 


1,000 


3d Wednesday in Jtino. 




C.P.... 


9 
6 


100 
44 


33 

6 


29 
2 


25 


22 


30 
53 


239 
79 


26 


239 
105 


06O-70 
6200 


14-20 




2d Thursday in Juno. 
3d Tuesday'in Juno. 


Lnth 






Pros . . . 
IJipt 


6 


24 


8 




4 


5 


59 


71 


29 


100 


a20 


8-12 


2,000 


Last Thursday in May. 


M. E... 
State. . . 

Cong .. 
Chr 


6 
10 

7 


9 










211] 115 
239 271 

.524 


105 


220 
271 

524 


6150-175 


10-12 


450 
10, 000 




15 


10 


5 


2 


2d Tuesday in June. 
















P.E ... 


8 














180 




180 






























Lnth 






























R.C.... 


9 


78 










84 


162 




102 


3-6 


c30 


500 


Last Thursday in Juno. 












7 
6 














173 

113 


142 315 
...113 


al30 
a30-00 


""12^50 


"'2,' 500 


September 4. 

2d Wednesday in June. 


Bapt . . . 


























334 


Bapt... 
State . . 
Cong . . 

P.E... 
M.E.S. 

Stat(< 


11 

15 

7 

10 
7 
19 










9 
13 
16 

8 


236140 


105 245 


15-25 
a45 
a45 

6350 

a40-75 

70 

06O 

a60 

a50 

a70 

o50 

50 

Eree . . 


12-15 
14-16 
al42 


"15,660 
11, 000 

4,000 
10, 000 
37, 000 
13, 580 

6,000 

3,500 

6, 660 
5,000 




335 
336 

337 




11 
14 

12 


7 
10 

24 


14 

18 

30 


24 


69 
58 

74 
142 
317 
180 
305 

81 
144 
151 

76 
386 




69 

58 

74 
142 
317 
180 
305 

81 
144 
151 

70 
386 


IstTliursdavin August. 
Thursday ■fiaiowing ad 

Wcihii'sday in August. 
2d Thursday in July. 


338 


10-18 

16-20 

13 

16 

0I6O 

10 

al40-205 

16 

15 


339 














Tluirsday iH-tiire July 4. 
1st WcdiK\sday in .Tune. 
4th Thursday in June. 

2d Thursday in June. 
July 1. 


340 
341 


M.E.S. 


5 

22 

5 
11 
U 
12 


88 


27 


25 


25 


15 




B43 


Pres . . . 
Bapt. . 
Lnth . . . 
P.E ... 

State .. 




18 


16 


21 


10 


16 


344 
345 


69 


11 


14 


16 


7 


34 


3d Wednesday in Juno. 
3(1 Monday in June. 
July 4. 


Tlfi 












386 


347 


R. C 














.... ::: 




348 
350 
15) 


Chr.... 
State. . . 
R.C.... 


9 
13 
12 
10 
9 
5 
9 
5 
1 


'99 


22 
25 


16 

8 


11 

12 


15 
2 


43 


107 
146 
120 

48 
185 


'28 
87 


107 

i20 

76 

272 


«30 
5-8 
a30 
6-8 
5-7 
a25 
030 
a21-30 


26 
16 

a200 
12 

8-11 


'"1,566 
3,500 

"'6,066 


3d Thursday in June. 
3d Wednesday in June. 
1st Monday In September. 
July 12. 
Last Thursday in Juno. 


3 50 














353 
354 


M. E . . . 
Bapt . . . 
Cong. . . 
M. E . . . 


57 


29 


24 


11 


13 


138 


355 

356 


133 


14 


20 


14 


11 


5 


197 
6^) 


'44 
22 
124 

'90 

i47 

'4 


197 
106 
183 
462 

20 
237 
185 
321 
130 
132 


080-100 


7,200 
4,500 


2d Wednesday in July. 


357 














161 
338 

20 
141 

1«^ 






358 
359 


State... 

R.C.... 
Bapt . . . 
P.E.... 


27 

5 
7 
10 
12 
15 
7 


131 


7 


5 


10 


6 


303 


6 

ffllCO 
8-11 
6400 

8 


12 


5,000 

7,200 
1,310 


Wednesday preceding last 

Tuesday in June. 
July 1. 

Last Wednesday in June. 
2d Wodnostlay in .luly. 
Last Wednesday in Juno. 


360 
361 


163 
131 

54 


32 
13 
6 


26 

21 

5 


10 
4 
5 


6 

7 

7 


9 


13 


36" 


244 174 


10 


1,500 


363 


R.C.... 

Lnth... 




130 

128 


364 


10 


al20-150 


1,500 


July 4. 


365 














366 
367 

368 


R.C.... 
Bapt . . . 
R.C.... 


16 
9 

8 


139 
70 


36 
13 


15 

8 


11 

8 


11 

10 


.... 


212 
l'J9 
143 




212 
109 
143 


6325 
aOO 
a44 


16 


33, 000 

8, 000 
400 


Last Thursday in Juno. 
Last Wednesday in Juno. 
Ist Monday in July. 


369 
















370 


Pri's . . . 
L.D. S. 


4 
13 














34 
280 
110 


17 


m 


40-60 

aOO 

14 


0225 

20-32 

14 


40 
466 


September 11. 


371 














294 580 
88 198 


37'> 







































464 



REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 



TABLE XI.— STATISTICS OF THEOLOGICAL 
[Compiled from the most recent reports sen* 



"Name. 



Location. 



Denomination. 



10 

11 
12 

13 
14 
15 
16 
17 
18 

19 

20 

21 
22 

23 
24 

25 
26 

27 

28 
29 

30 
31 
32 
33 
34 
35 
36 

37 
38 

39 
40 
41 
42 
43 
44 
45 
46 
41 
.48 

49 
,50 
,51 
;52 
i53 



Theological department of nowardCoUege. 
Ecclesiastical Seminary of Diocese of Mo- 
bile. 

Saint Augustine College 

Theological Seminary 

Pacific Theological Seminary 

Theological Institute of Connecticut 

Theological (l(i)aitiiunt of Yale CoUege.. 
Bojkeley Uivinity School 



Theological department of Mercer Uni- 
versity. 
St. Joseph's Ecclesiastical College 



Theological Seminary of the Northwest. . . 

Theological school of Blackburn Univer- 
sity. 

Garrett Biblical Tiisf ituto ■ 

Chicago Thool( laical Seminary 

Theological SciiiiiKiiy of the Northwest. .. 

Baptist Theological Seminary 

Bible department of Eureka College 

Theological department of Shurtlefif Col- 
lege. 

Theological department of Augnstana 
College. 

Theological School of Hartsville Univer- 
sity. 

War'tburg Seminary 

Theological department of Griswold Col- 
lege. 

German Theological Seminary 

Theological Department of Iowa Wes- 
leyan University. 

Norwegian Theological Seminary 

Theological department of Georgetown 
College. 

■Western Baptist Theological Institute . . 

St. Jo.seph'8 Ecclesiastical Seminary 

College of the Bible, of Kentucky Univer- 
sity. 

Danville Theological Seminary 

Diocesan Thcoldgical Srniiiiary 

Theological scluml of J'.cthcl College 

Thomson Biblical Institute 

Th(!(>logical Seminary 

Theological Seminary 

Theological school ot Bates CoUego 



Marion, Ala 

South Orange, Ala 



Benicia, Cal 

San Francisco, Cal . 

Oakland, Cal 

Hartford, Conn 

New Haven, Conn. . 
Middletown, Conn . 



Macon, Ga 

Teutopolis, lU . . . 

Monmouth, HI . . . 
Carlinville, HI . . . 

Evanston, HI 

Chicago, HI 

do 

do 

Eureka, HI 

Upper Alton, HI . 

Genesee, HI 

Hartsville, Ind... 



St. Sebald.Iowa.. 
Davenport, Iowa. 



Dubuque, Iowa 

Mt. Pleasant, Iowa. 



Theological Seminary of St. Sulpice 

Theological department of Mt. St. Mary's 
College. 

Theological Seminary 

Divinity school of Tufts College 

Diviiiilv sch(]ol of Harvard University... 

Boston 'i'licoloiiical Souiinary 

Andovi-r Theological Seminary 

Epi.scoiial Theoloiiical Scliool , 

Newton Theol(i;;ical Institution 

New .lerusaleni 'I'lieological School 

Theological depaitnu'Ut of Adrian College 

Theological department of Hillsdale Col- 
lege. 

Scandinavian Theological Seminary 

Concordia Seminary 

Vanderiuan School of Tlieoloiiv 

Theological school of ■\Vestliun'ster CollcgO 

St. ^'inceut's Theological Seminary 

Theologieal^Semiuary of the Iteformed 
■^ ■* Church. ' 



Decorah, Iowa . . 
Georgetown, Ky 



do 

Bardstown,Ky. 
Lexington, Ky . 



Danville, Ky 

Shelbyville,'Ky . . 
Russellville, Ivy. . 
New Orleans, La. 

do 

Bangor, Mo 

Lewiston, Mo 



Baltimore, Md 

Near Emmittsburgh, 
Md. 

Woodstock, Md 

College Hill, Mass... 

Cambridge, Mass 

Boston, Mass 

Andover, ^lass 

Cambiidge, Mass 

Newton C'cnire, Mass 

Walthani, j\Iass 

Adrian, Mich 

Hillsdale, Mich 



1868 
1871 
1866 
1834 
1823 
1854 

1833 

1861 

1839 

1857 

1854 
1855 
1659 
1866 
1852 
1832 



1857 
1859 



1840 
1820 
1865 

1853 
1865 

1858 
1865 



1816 
1830 



1791 
1800 



Chicago, HI 

St. Louis, Mo 

LibeTtj% Mo 

Fulton, Mo 

Capo Girardeau, Mo. . , 
New Brunswick, N. J . 



1868 
1811 
1847 
1808 
18G7 
1826 
1860 



Baptist 

Roman Catholic. 



Protestant Episcoival . 

Presljyterian 

Congregational 

do 

do 

Protestant Episcopal . 



Baptist 

Roman Catholic . 



United Presbyterian . 
Presbyterian 



1840 

1868 



Methodist Episcopal . 

Congregational 

Presbyterian 

Baptist 

Christian 

Baptist , 



Lutheran . 



United Brethren. 



Lutheran 

Protestant Episcopal . . 



Presbyterian 

Methodist Episcopal . 



Lutheran. 
Baptist . . . 



do 

Roman Catholic. 
Christian 



Presbyterian 

Protestant Episcopal 

Baptist 

Methodist Episcopal.. 

Roman Catholic 

Congregational 

Free Baptist 



Roman Catholic. 
, do 



do 

Universalist 

No tests ,. 

Methodi.st Episcopal.. 

Congregational 

Protestant Episcopal. . 

Baptist 

New Jerusalem Church 



Free Baptist. 

Lutheran 

do 

Baptist 



1844 Roman Catholic. 
J785 Reformed 



STATISTICAL TABLES. 



465 



SEMINARIES IN THE T^^^TED STATES, 
to tho United States Bureau of Education.] 





President or senior professor. 




S 
p. 

d 


B 

S 
to 


6 


!3 

u 

SI 

"o 


1 
g 

=«"a 
og 



1 


09 

■sl 


£^ 

a 
II 


Time of commencemont. 


1 

2 


Rev. S. R. Freeman, D. D 


1 


4 






2,500 


$105 


Last Thursday in June. 






3 


Kt Rev. Wm. I. Kip, D. D 


6 


7 












4 












5 
C 

7 


Rpv. James A. Benton, D. D . . . 

William Thompson, I). 1) 

Noah Porter, D. 1)., LL. D 

Et. Rev. John Williams, D. U., 

LL. I). 
Henry U Tucker D. D 


2 
3 
7 
10 


7 
25 
55 
38 


200 
865 
149 


$50, 000 

368,066 
40, 000 


1,500 
7,000 


1.50 
80 


3d Thursday of August 
Last Thursday in June. 
3d Thursday in May. 
1st week in'Juue. 


S 






<» 








10 

11 

12 
13 


Very Rev. P. Maurice Kloster- 

man, O. S. F. 
Rev. Alexander Young, D. D . . . 
Rev. John W. Bailey, L). D 

H. Bannister, D. D 


7 

3 
1 

4 

6 


106 

15 
20 

90 
55 


527 
208 

256 
125 
171 


15, 000 
16, 000 

300, 000 
100, 000 

100, 000 

112, 000 


700 

2, 050 
700 

3,300 
3, 700 
8,000 
10, 000 


180 

150-175 
180 

1.50 

1.50 

125-1.50 

150 


Last Thursday in March. 
Last Thursd.iv in June. 


14 


Rev. S. C. Bartlett, D. D 


Last Thursd.iy in ApriL 
1st Thursday in April. 


16 








17 










2d Thursday in June. 
Do. 


18 


Rev J. Bulkley D D 


3 
2 
1 






65,000 




150 


19 


Rev. T. N. Hasselquist 


18 
7 






'>n 


Rev. J. "Woodbury Scribner, A. 
M. 








93-150 

250 

150 


2d Tuesday in Juno. 


91 


67 
15 

75 


3,400 
40, 000 

10, 000 


1,045 
5,000 

5,000 


22 


Rt. Rev. Henry "W. Lee, D. D., 
LL.U. 


2 

2 
1 


7 
IC 


3d week in Juno. 
Juno Ist. 


94 


John Wheeler, D. I) 




95 
















96 


Rev. N. M. Crawford 


1 










200-250 


2d Thursday in June. 


07 












9ft 


Rev. P. de Fraine 


7 
2 


08 
122 






3,000 


150 
125 


Last Tnesd.ay in Jiuie. 
2d Friday in" Juno. 

31st October. 


99 


Rev. Robert Milligan 


110 
194 




:<o 




218, 000 


8,000 


31 








2d Thursday in Juno. 


39 
















.^'^ 


















34 





4 
4 

6 
3 

7 
3 

14 
U 
4 
5 
4 


30 
24 
21 

70 
29 

75 
20 
37 
90 
88 
11 
50 
8 












35 

.36 


Rev. Enoch Pon(C D. D 

Rev. Oren B. Cheney, D. D 


640 


120, 000 


13, 000 
2,000 


150 


1st Thursday in June. 
Tuesday before the last 

Wednesday in Juno. 
July 1st. 


37 






38 
39 


Very Rev. Jno. McCaffrey, D. D 


320 




15, 000 


150 


3d Monday in Juno. 


40 


Rev. Alonzo A. Miner, D. D 

Charles W. Eliot, LL. D 

Rev. William F. Warren, D. D. . 
Rev. Edwards A. Park, D. D. . . . 

Rev. John S. St(me, D. D 

Rev. Alvah Ilovey, D. D 

Rev. Thomas Worcester 

Rev. A. Mahan, I). D 






12, 000 

16, 000 

4, 000 

30, 000 

"i,'266 

500 


250 
300 
140 
150 
350 
200 
175 




41 
42 
43 
44 
45 
46 
47 


432 

665 

2,606 

'536' 
9 


240, 6(10 
250, 000 

12.5,600 

335, 000 

27, 000 


Last Tuesday in June. 
2dAV('(liiesdayiu Juno. 
1st Tlmisdiiv in Autrust. 
1st Wcdnisday in.July. 
2d W( (loisday in June. 
Not lixed. 


48 


Rev. James Calder, D. D 


4 


32 












49 












.V) 


Rev. C. F. "W. "Walter 


4 
4 
3 








5,000 
3,000 


310 


1st .September. 

1st Wednesday in Juno. 


51 
Wif. 


Ptev. T. Rambaut, D. D 


52 
C 




60, 000 


fa 












54 


Rev. Samuel M. "Woodbridge. . . 


4 


22 


779 


175, 000 


16, 000 


300 


September 20. 



28* 



466 REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OP EDUCATION. 

Table XI.— STATISTICS OF TIIEOLOGICAL SEM 



Name. 



Location. 



Denomination. 



Theological Seminary 

Drew Theological Seminary . . . 
Auburn Theological Seminary. 



Rochester Theological vScminary. 
Union Theological Seminary 



Princeton, N. J. 
Madison, N. J . . 
Auburn, N. Y . . 



104 



106 
107 



Hartwiclc Theological Seminary 

Theological seminaryof Madison University 

Theological school 'of St. Lawrence Uni- 
versity. 

Martin Luther (theological) CoUego 

Newburgh Theological Seminary 

St. Joseph's Provincial Seminary 

Theological Seminary 

Do Lancy Divinity School 

Theological Seminary of Our Lady of 
Angels. 

Theological school of Trinity College 

Biblical department of Baldwin University 

Theological Seminary 



Eochester, N. Y 

New York City, N.Y. 



Hartwick, N. Y 
Hamilton. N. Y 
Canton, N. Y... 



Theological school of Ohio Weslcyan Uni- 
versity. 

Theological department of "Wilberforco 
University. 

Theological'departmentof Oberlin College 

neidelbcrg Theological Seminary 

Theological seminary of St. Charles Bor- 
I'ome'o. 

Wittenberg College 

Mount Saint Mary's of the West 



Lane Theological Seminary 

Theological department of Capital Univer- 
sity. 

Theological Seminary 

St. Mary's Ecclesiastical Seminary 

Crozer Theological Seminary 

Meadvillo Theological School 

Theological Seminary 

Divinity School 



Buifalo.N.Y 

Newburgh, K. Y 

Troy, N. Y 

New York City, N. Y. . 

Geneva, N. Y 

SuspensionBridgOjN.Y 

Trinity College, N. C 

Berea,'Ohio 

Gambler, Ohio 



Lutheran Theological Seminary 
Missionary Institute 



Western Theological Seminary 

Theological Seminary 

Biblical department of Allegheny College 

Theological department of "Lincoln Uni- 
versity. 

Chair of Biblical language and literature, 
Dickinson College. 

Theological Seminary 



St. Michael's Theological Seminary 

Theological Seminary 

Protestant Ej)iscopai Mission House 

St. Cliai Ics iioiTonioo Seminary 

TlicnlMiiical Seminaryof Ursinns College.. 

1'liciiloui( ;il Sruiinary 

Th(iiliigic:il .S;'niiuary 

Southern B:i])tist Theological Seminary . 

Theological department of Cumberland 
University. 

Theological department of Central Uni- 
versity. 

Theological department of Baylor Uni- 
versity. 

Colver institute , , — 

Union Theological Seminary 



Delaware, Ohio . . . 
Near Xenia, Ohio 



Oberlin, Ohio 

TitBn,Ohio 

Carthagena, Ohio. 

Springfield, Ohio . 
Cincinnati, Ohio. . 



do 

Columbus, Ohio . 



Xenia, Ohio 

Cleveland, Ohio . . 

Upland, Pa 

MeadviUe, Pa 

Lancaster, Pa . . . 
Philadelphia, Pa . 



-do 



Selin's Grove, Pa — 

Allegheny City, Pa . 

do 

MeadviUe, Pa 

Oxford, Pa 



Carlisle, Pa . 



Bethlehem, Pa . 



1812 
1867 
1821 

1850 
1836 

1816 
1820 

1858 

1854 
18G5 
1864 
1817 
1661 
1656 



Pres"bytorian 

Methodist Episcopal. 
Presbyterian 



Baptist 

Presbyterian 



Lutheran 

Baptist 

Universalist . 



Lutheran , 

United Presbyterian.. 

Pioman Catholic 

Protestant Episcopal. 

do 

Ilomau Catholic 



1826 



1835 
1850 
1869 

1845 
1849 

1829 



Methodist EpiscopaL. 
do 

Protestant Episcopal . 

Methodist Episcopal.. 

African Methodist 
Episcopal. 

Congregational 

Koformcd 

Eoman Catholic 



1794 



1868 
1844 
1825 
1862 

1864 

1858 

1825 



Pittsburgh, Pa 

Gettysburgh, Pa 

West Pliiladelphia, Pa. 

Philadelphia, Pa 

Freeland, Pa 

Columbia, S. C 

do 

Greenville, S. C 

Lebanon, Tenn 



Nashville, Tenn 

Independence, Tox 



Richmond, Va 

Hampden Sidney, Va. 



1807 

1847 
1825 
1864 
1858 
1870 
1831 
1859 
1859 
1842 

1866 

1864 

1867 

1824 



Lutheran 

Eoman Catholic. 



Presbyterian 
Lutheran 



United Presbyterian. 

Eoman Catholic 

Baptist 

Unitarian 

Eeformed 

Protestant Episcopal . 

Lutheran 



-do 



Presbvterian 

Unitetl Presbyterian . 



Presbyterian 

Methodist Episcopal. 
Moravian 



Eoman Catholic 

Lutheran 

Protestant Episcopal. 
Eoman CathoUc 



Presbyterian. 

Lutheran 

Baptist 

Presbyterian. 



Methodist Episcopal . 
Baptist 



do 

Presbyterian. 



STATISTICAL TABLES. 

DTAEIES IN THE TTNITED STATES— Contiuual. 



4G7 



1 


President or senior professor. 

• 


i 

1 

o 

1 


03 

1 

■a 

o 
o 

a 


a 

V 

t. 
o 

SI 

o 
'o 
.a 


i 

a 


_^a 



1 


a 

a 

^^ 

M 
i 


a e 

li 

1^ 


Time of commencemcnti 


55 
50 


Kcv.('lKirlrsTlo(lfre,l>.D.,LL.P 
i;;in.lnl,,li S. I'listiT, D.D., LL.D 
S M llopUiiis D.l) 


c 

5 

5 


1 

4 
3 

5 
2 
7 
C 
5 
4 

1 


122 
97 

40 


2, 927 
189 


1500, 000 
500, 000 


21, 804 
10, 000 
8,500 

8,000 
30, 000 

2,000 
10, 000 
C, 000 


$175 
l,™ 
250 

175 

250 

175 

200 
240 


Last Wednes<Iay in April. 

3d Thiirsdav in Mav. 

Thursday after 1st Sunday 
in May. 

3d week in May. 

Monday before 2d Thurs- 
day in May. 

4th Wednesday in Juno. 

3d Tuesday in June. 

1st Thursday in July. 


53 
59 

fin 


Rev. E. G. EobiusoH, D.I) 

IIOY. lleury B. Smith, D. D., 

LL.D. 
Rov. T. T. Titus, A. M 


71 
117 

2 

22 
27 

1" 


470 
935 

100 
800 
142 


207, 000 
375, 000 

15, 000 

160, 000 
00, 000 


CI 

62 

63 


Rev. Geo. W.Eaton, D.D., LL.D 
Rov. Ebenezcr Fisher, D. D ... 


<)4 
f.5 


A board of superintendents ... 
Very Rev. IL Gabriels 


12 

^9n 


"206' 


30, 000 


3,400 


100 

225 

400-500 


Last Wednesday in March, 
Last Thursday in Juno. 
Last Friday in June. 


fifi 




812 


266, 660 
20,000 


13, 845 


fi7 


Rev. James Ranldne, D. D 

Very Rov. Robert E. V. Rico. . 

Rev. r>. CraA cu, D. T) 

Rev. W. D. ( ;ochiiati, I). D 


68 

69 
70 


50 

28 


150 
20 


3,500 
400 


202 
125 


Last Wednesday in Juno. 
Last Thursday in Juno. 


71 
72 


Rt. Rev. 0. ]'. jMcIIvaiuo, D.D., 

D. C. L., LL. D. 
Rev. Frederick Merrick 

Rt. Rev. Daniel A. Payne, D. D. 

Rev. James IT. Fairchild, D. D. 
Rev. J. n. Good, D. D 


4 
3 

5 

3 

1 
3 

5 


15 


101 


100, 000 


7,000 


300 


Last Thursday in June. 


73 


18 

47 

18 


4 

288 
130 






150 

150-225 

175 

Free.. 

150 
225 

150 


Third Wednesday in June. 

1st Wednesday in August. 
Last Wednesday in Juno. 


74 


CO, 000 
21, 000 


10, 000 
2,400 
3,500 


7fi 


Rev. Henry Drees, D. D 

Rev. S. Sprecher, D. D 

Rov. F..J. Pabi,sch,D.D.,LL.D., 

D. C. L. 
Rev. Henry Smith, D. D 


27 
6 




77 


109 




Juno 30. 


78 

79 
80 


33 

40 


533 


160,000 
200, 000 


10, 000 
12, 000 


Juno 24. 

2d Thursday in May. 


PI 


Rov. S. Wilson, D. D 


3 


15 


370 


50, COO 


2,000 


100-150 


1st Thursday in October. 


8'.1 




83 


Rev. Henry G. Weston, D. D . . 
















P4 




C 
3 

5 

4 
4 

7 


21 

20 
45 

38 

17 

75 


100 
270 
133 

52 

52 

1,005 


140, 000 
CO, 000 

88, 000 
184, 000 


11,000 
8,000 
0,100 

1,800 

2,000 


225 

260 

250-300 

240 
200 


3d Thursday in June. 

Last Wednesday in May. 

Thursday after 3d Tues- 
day in Juno. 

Week before Trinity Sun- 
day. 

Week before Trinity Sun- 
day. 

Last Wednesday in April. 


85 
£G 

87 

88 


Rov. E. V. Gcrhart, D. D 

Rev.D.R.Goodwin, D. D.,LL.D 

Rev. Chailes F. Schaefler, D. D. 

H. Zeigler 


89 


Rev.M.W. Jacobu.s, D.D.,LL.D 


91 


Rev. (Jenrpo Loomis, D. D 
















92 


Rev. L N. Reudall, D. D 

Rev. Robert L. Dasliiell, D. D. . 

Ri.alit Reverend Edmund do 

Seluveinitz, D. D. 
Rev.S.Wall 


5 
1 

4 

5 

5 
3 


C 
11 
20 

60 

28 
9 








98-113 


3d Wednesday in Juno. 


9;< 








94 
95 


233 

130 

426 

30 


42, 000 
166,066 


4,100 

4,000 

12, 000 

0(10 

10, 000 


200 

200 
l.'-.O 
300 
300 
200 
150 
150 
110 
100 

100 

100 

CO 
250-300 


1st Wednesday in Sept. 


90 
97 

98 


Rev. J. A. Brown, D. D 

Rev. Washington Rodman 


4th Thursday in June. 
3d Tlnusday'in September. 
1st iiliinda.T in September. 
Last Thiusdayin June. 
2d week in May. 
1st Thur.sday in October.. 
Last Saturday in April. 
1st Thursday in June. 

3d week in May. 

3d Tluirsday in Juno. 


99 


Rev. J. H. A. Bomberger 

Rev. George Howe, D. D 

Rev. A. R. Rudo 


3 

7 
2 

5 
2 

1 

1 

2 
1 




^ 




100 
101 


41 


374 


145, 715 
29, 000 
50, COO 
35, 000 


18, 340 
4, COO 

10, 000 
5,000 

400 

400 

1,000 
8,000 


102 
103 

104 


Rev. James P. Boyco, D. D 

Rev. B. W. McDonnold, D.D., 

LL.D. 
Rev. J. Braden, A. M 


51 

8 

6 
21 
73 


185 
40 


105 


Rev. Wm. Carey Crane, D. D. . 

Rev. Charles U. Corey, A. M. . . 
Eev. R. L. Dabney, D. D 






lot; 






107 


59 


400 


196,666 


2d Tuesday in May. 



468 REPOBT OP THE COMMISSIONER OF in5ITCATIDK. 

Table XI.— STATISTICS OF THEOLOGICAL SESt 



Name. 



Location. 



Denomination. 



108 
109 
110 
111 
112 
113 
114 
115 
116 

117 



Theological Seminary 

St. John's Theological Seminary 

New Hampton Theological Seminary 

St. Vincent's College 

Nashotah Theological Seminary 

Mission House 

The Salesianum 

Angsburg Seminary 

Theological department of Howard Uni- 
versity. 
"Way land Theological Seminary 



Fairfax Coimty, Va . . . 

Norfolk, Va 

Fairfax, Va 

Wheeling, W. Va 

Nashotah Lakes, Wis 
Howard's Grove, "Wis 

St. Francis, Wis 

Marshall, Wis 

Washington, D. C 



.do 



1823 
1869 
1825 
1865 
1847 
1864 
1856 
1869 
1870 

1865 



Protestant Episcopal 

Roman Catholic , 

Baptist 

Eoman Catholic. . . ''. 
Protestant Episcopal. s 

Reformed 

Eoman Catholic 

Lntheran 

Union Evangelical. ..i 

Baptist 



STATI5TICSL TABLES. 

INaHIES in the united states— Continued. 



469 



108 
109 
110 

111 
ai2 

.113 
114 
115 
116 

m 



Frosidont or senior professor. 



Rt.Eov. John Johns,D.D., LL.D 
Rov. M.O'Keefe 

Eov. A. Lonazo 

Rev. A. D.Colo, D.D 

Rev. n. A. Muchlmcycr 

Rov. Jo9P])h Salzmann, D. D. 

Rev. A. Weenaas, A. M 

Gon. 0. 0. Howard -.-. 

Rev.&.M.I».Kiilg .......i.. 



599 
3 



56 
210 

33 

416 

G 



OS 



$100 



?b 



9,500 
3,000 



1,500 
5,000 
1,400 
7,200 
1,000 



^ 



w» 



$200 
150-250 



50 

150-180 

.100 

150 

—J 
75 



Time of conunencomonfc 



Last Thursday in Juno. 
Second Thorsday in July. 

June 29. 

First Monday in Sept. 

July 1. 

Last Tuesday in June. 

Last Wednesday in May. 



470 REPORT OP THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 

Table XIL— STATISTICS OF LAW 



Name. 



Location. 



City or town. 



State. 



Law school of Yalo College 

Law department of University of Georgia 

Law school of University of Chicago 

Law department of McKcndree College 

Law school of University of Indiana 

College of law of Northwestern Christian University. . 

Law department of the University of Notre Dame 

Law department of Iowa State University 

Law department of Iowa Wesleyau University 

College of law of Kentucky University 

New Orleans Law School 

Law school of Harvard University 

Law school of the University of Mississippi 

Law department of Michigan University 

Law school of "Washington University 

Law school of the University of Albany 

Law department of the University of New York 

Law school of Columbia College 

Law school of Hamilton College 

Law school of St. Lawrence University 

Law school of Trinity College 

Law school of Cincirinati CollcM 

Ohio State and Union Law College 

Law department of Wilberforce University 

Law department of the University of Pennsylvania ... 
Law school of the Western University of Pennsylvania 

Law department of Lincoln University 

Law department of Dickinson College 

Law department of South Carolina University 

Law department of Uoivursity of Nashville 

Law department of Cumberland University 

Law department of Baylor University 

Law school of Eichmond College 

Law department of Washington and Lee University . . 

Law (l.'partiiiint of the University of Virginia 

Law de]):u'tTii(ut of the University of Wisconsin 

Law deiiartnuut of Columbian College 

Law department of Howard University 

Law school of Georgetown College 

Law school of National University 



New Haven 

Athens 

Chicago .. 

Lebanon 

Bloomington 

Indianapolis 

Notre Dame 

Iowa City 

Mount Pleasant. 

Lexington 

New Orleans 

Cambridge 

Oxford 

Ann Arbor 

St. Louis 

Albany 

New York 

New York 

Clinton 

Canton 

Near High Point 

Cincinnati 

Cleveland 

Near Xenia 

Philadelphia 

Pittsburgh 

Oxford 

Carlisle 

Columbia 

Nashville 

Lebanon 

Independence ... 

Eichmond 

Lexington 

Charlottesville.. 

Madison 

Washington 

Washington 

Georgetown 

Washington 



Connecticut .. 

Georgia 

Illinois 

Illinois 

Indiana 

Indiana 

Indiana 

Iowa 

Iowa 

Kentucky 

Louisiana 

Massacliusetts 
Mississippi . . . 

Michigan 

Missouri 

New York 

New York ^ 

New York 

New York 

New York 

North Carolina 

Ohio 

Ohio , 

Ohio , 

Pennsylvania . 
Pennsylvania . 
Pennsylvania . 
Pennsylvania . 
South Carolina 

Tennessee 

Tennessee 

Texas 

Virginia 

Virginia 

Virginia 

Wisconsin 

Dist. Columbia 
Dist. Columbia 
Dist. Columbia, 
Dist. Columbia. 



STATISTICAL TABLES. 
SCHOOLS IN" THE TJNITED SrATES. 



471 



1 


^1 


rresident or senior professor. 


P 

A P. 


o . 
II 


o . 
11 


's.s . 


Time of commencement. 


1 

9 


1843 

1867 
180!) 

leno 

1843 
1870 

"iecs 

1871 

1805 
1840 
1817 
1854 
IH.-)!) 
1807 
1851 

""'iesi)' 

1853 
185C 

"issa' 

1850 
1859 
1850 
1871 
1854 
18G4 
1847 

""i84-y 

1845 
1870 

""i825' 
1868 
1820 
1803 
1870 
1870 


Xoah Porter, D. D., IX. D 


4 

3 
4 

1 
2 

6 
3 
4 
3 
4 
7 
2 
4 
9 
3 
4 
6 
1 

1 


23 
19 
52 
5 
53 
11 


'"201' 

23 

229 


2,150 
731 

""850' 
1,099 


Last Thursday but two in July, 


3 

4 
5 


J. C. Burrouchs, D. U., LL. I) . . 

Heiirv IT. Horner, A. M 

D.ivid MeDonakl, LL. D 

Horatio V. Neweomb, LL. D. . . 
\W\. W. ( 'orbv, S. S. C 


Last Thursday in Juno. 
First Thursday in Juno. 

27th day of March. 


7 






8 




50 

""'28' 
54 
154 
7 
321 
53 
86 


91 
12 

"85:V 
1,089 

i.'oao" 

33 


2,000 

"i'Jm 
3, oi;o 

15, 000 

500 

3,100 

2,000 


Last Thursday in Juno. 
June 18. 


q 


Jolnr Wheeler D. D 


10 




11 

12 

i:f 


Christian Roseliu.s, LL. D 

Charles AV. Eliot, LL. D 

■Tohu N. Watlilel, 1). U 


First Monday in April. 
Last Wednesday in Junov 


14 
15 

Ifi 


James r.. Anfiell, LL. I) 

Henrv Hitchcock, A. M 

Ira Harris, LL. U 


Second Monday in May. 


17 


Henrv lO. Davles, LL. D 

E. A. P. Barnard, D. D., LL. D . 
S. G. Brown, D. D., LL. D 

Richmond Fi.sk, jr., D. D 

B. ('raven, 1). D 








18 
19 

20 
9,1 


59 
14 

11 


690 
65 

15 


"5,066 
600 


Thursday after last Tuesday 
in June. 


S9 


BrllumvSldrer, LL. D 










9T 


Jolm Cniwell LL. D 


2 

1 

3 

9 
1 
1 
3 
o 

4 
2 
2 
2 

C 
5 
3 
3 
3 


28 




2,500 




24 


\\. lMIoward,A.M.,B.L 

E. Silencer Miller, A. M 

Geor.'(^ Woods, LL. D 




25 


02 








26 








27 


L N. Kandull, 1). U 

James H. Graham, LL. D 

R. W. Barnwell, LL. D 

^"athani.•l F.axter, LL.D 

1!. W. McDonn.iM, D.D 

"Willhim <_'arey ("nine, D. D 

B. Pnrve.ar, A. M 

J. AV. Brockenbronsh, LL.D .. 
John B. Minor, LL^D 


3 
12 
3 








8fl 






First Thursday in September. 


2v» 






3;) 








:m 


80 
10 
13 
31 

117 
23 

107 
55 
25 
87 








32 






First Wednesday in June. 
First Wednesday in July. 


33 
34 


8 




35 






Thursday before 4th of July. 


3fi 


H. S. Orton, LL. D 






37 


J. C. "Wollin!;, LL. D 








38 
30 


John M. Langston, A. M 

Rev. John Early, S. J . 


13 




June 5 


40 


W. n. Wedgwood, LL D 






Last Thursday in May. 







472 REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OP EDUCATION. 

Table Xm.— STATISTICS OF MEDICAL, DENTAL, AND 



Name. 



Location. 



I. MEDICAL AND SURGICAL. 

1. " Fegular." 

Medical Collego of Alabama 

Tol!in(lM(<lif;tl('ollt"^o 

3 Mp(lir:il ilcpai tuHiit (if University of the Pacific 

4 Mo(Ii<'a! ilciiarlnicnt (if Yalo College 

5 Medical ('(ill. ■•:.■ (if Georgia 

C Savauiiali llcdi. al Cdllege 

7 Atlanta. Medical ('(illc!;o 

8 Eush Medical ('(dlcuc:" 

9 Cbica;:(i Jledieal Cdllese, (medical department of 
tbe X(Ul Invest cm University.) 

10 "VTonian's Ihisjiital Medical Collefce* 

11 Indiana iMedieal Cellege, (medical department of 
tbe State University.) 

12 College (if rbvsician.s :ind Surgeons 

13 Medical (lc|iartiiieDt df Iowa State University 

14 Medical de]iartnient (if the University of Louisville 

15 Lonisville Medical Colbjgo 

16 Medi( al dejiartnient (if tbe University of Louisiana. . 

17 Medical ScIkkiI of Maine, (medical department of 
Bdwddin Cdllegc.) 

18 Medical departnientof "Wasbington University 

19 Scbddl (if medicine of tbo University of Maryland .. 

20 Medical .^(diddl df Harvard Uuiver.sity 

21 Kow Kniiland J'^eniale Medical College * 

22 MedR-ardciiartnient dfMicbigau University t 

23 Detroit Medical (Julle^e 

24 Missouri Medi'al Ciillege ■ 

25 St. Louis M( (lical Cellege 

26 Medical CdUe^e df ICansas City 

27 Kan.^as Citv Cdlleuc df Physicians and Surgeons 

28 Medical dejiartnient df Dartmouth College 

29 ColleL;e df riivsicians and Surgeons 

30 Albanv Medi(al ('(dleso 

31 Medical de])artnient df tbo University of New York. 

32 Woman's MedicalCdUegooftbo Now York Infirmary' 

33 Medical (leiiarinient df the University of Buffalo 

34 Long Island C(dlege Hospital 

35 Bcllcvuo lIospitatMedical College 

3(i,. Geneva Medical College, (medical department of 

i n()bartC(dleRe.) 
371 Medical Colleiiv. df Obio 

38 Cloveland Medical Cdllege, (medical department of 

Universilvdf Wdiister.) 

39 Starlini; Medical ( 'nUege 

40 Ciucinn.'iti ('dlle'.;(' df Medicine and Surgery 

41 Miam i Medical ( 'dlb ■uo 

42 Medic.il (U ]iaitinenf of Willamette University 

43 Medical de|iartment (if University of Pennsylvania. . 

44 Jefl'er.Miu Medical Cdllego 

45 Woman's Medical Co. lego of Pennsylvania* 

46 Medical de]iartinent of Lincoln Univer.sity 

47 Medical Cdlh-^e of the State .if South Carolina! 

48 Medical departinent of I'niversit yof Soutb (Jarolina 

49 l^Iedical depart ment of tbe UnivJ'rsitv (if Na.sbville 

50 Memphis Medical Cdlleuc, (medical department of 

Cundicrland University.) § 

51 Galveston .Medical Colleui' 

52 Medical deiiartment of \( rmont University 

53 Medical de]iartment of the University of Virginia.. 

54 Medical ('dlleg(< of Virginia 

55 !Me(lical depaitinent of Georgetown College 

50 National Medical College, (medical department of 

Colnmliiaii ('(dlege.) 
57 I Medical tlepartmeut of Howard University t 



Mobile, Ala 

San Francisco, Cal. 

do 

New Haven, Conn . 

Augusta, Ga 

Savannah, Ga 

Atlanta, (la 

Chicago, 111 

do 



, do 

Indianapolis, Ind 



Keokuk, Iowa . . . 
Iowa City, Iowa . 
Louisville, Ky . . . 

do.....:. .. 

New Orleans, La. 
Brunswick, Me . . . 



1856 
1864 
18o9 
1813 
1832 
18:)6 
185.5 
1842 
1859 

1870 
1869 

1849 
1870 
1837 



Baltimore, Md 

do 

Boston, Mass 

do 

Ann Arbor, Mich 

Detroit, Mich 

St. Louis, Mo 

do 

Kansas City, Mo 

do 

Hanover, N. H 

New York City, N. Y. . 

Albany, N. Y 

New York City, N. Y. . 

do 

Buflalo, N. Y 

Brooklyn, N. Y 

New Y'ork City. N. Y . . 
Geneva, N. Y 



Cincinnati, Ohio 
Cleveland, Ohio. 



Columbus, Ohio 

Cincinnati, Ohio 

do 

Salem, Oreg 

Philadelphia, Pa . . . 

do 

do 

0.xford, Pa 

Charleston, S. C 

Columliia.S.C 

.\ash\ille, Tenn 

Memphis, Tenn 



Galveston, Tex 

Burlington, Vt 

Charlottesville, Va.. 

l;i(dim(in(l,Va 

WasliiTigton, D. C . .. 
do" 



.do 



1836 
1820 

1867 
1807 
1783 

1843 
1850 
1868 
18^0 
1842 
1870 
1668 
1796 
1807 
1838 
1841 
1805 
1846 
1860 
1801 
1834 

1819 
1843 

1847 
1851 
1852 



1765 
1826 
1850 



1850 

1847 



1868 



1825 
1838 
1850 
1821 

1867 



•For female students only. 

iCollege not yet opened, (November 10, 1871,) on accoant of prevailing yellow fever and the suspen- 

§ After the war, reorganized in 18G8 ; in 1871 uecamo medical department of Cumberland University, 



STATISriCAL TABLES. 



473 



PHARMACEUTICAL INSTITUTIONS IN THE UNITED STATES. 



rrcsident or dean. 



"William IT. Anderson, M. D 

K. r.iv.rlv Colo, U. D., dean 

Ilciiry (liblidiis, jr., M. D., dean.. 
Cba.s.' A. Lindslfv, M. I)., dean .. 
L. A. Dutjas, M.i)., LL. D., dean. . 

AV. Duncan, M. D., dean 

J. G. Westmoreland, M. D., dean. 
Josei)li \V. Freer, M. D., ])residcnt. 
N. S. Davis, A. M.. M. D., dean . . 

Vr. n. Byford, A. M., M. D., pres 
J. A. Comingor, M. D., secretary. . 



J. C. HuKlies, M. D., dean 

W. r. Peck, M. D.. dean 

J. M. Boiline, ^I. D., dean 

E. S. Gaillard, M. D., dean 

'£. G. Kicliardson, M. I)., de.an. . . 
C. y. Brackett, M. D., secretary. 



Chas. "W. Ch.inccllor, M. D., dean 
Julian J. Chi.solm, M. D.. dean. . 

Calvin Elli.'^, M. D., dean 

Stephen Tracy, M. D., dean 

Abram Saper,' M. A., M. D., dean 
Tlieo'i (' .\. McGraw, M. D., secry 

John S. ^iloore, ^I. D., dean 

J. T. llodu^sdu. M. D., dean 

Joseph Chew. M. D., dean 

S. S. Todd, M. D., president 

A. D. Smith, D. 1)., LL. D 

Jas. W. ilcLane, M. D., secretary 

J. V. Lansiiiir, M. D 

J. W. Draper, M. D., LL. D., pres't 
Emily Black well, M. D., secretary. 
Juliiia F. ^liner, M. 1)., dean . . 

S. G. Aomor, M. D., dean 

Austin Flint, jr., :M. D., .secretary. 
John Towler, M. D., dean 



J.ames Graham, M. D., dean... 
J. LaugCascels.M. D.,LL. D.,dean 



Francis Carter, M. D., dean 

B. S. Lawson, M. D., dean 

Gcorjrc Mendenhall, M. D., dean. 

Duiicl I'ayton.M.D 

It. K. Kocrcrs, M. D., dean 

B. Howard Kand, M. D., dean 

Ann I'rcst<in, ^L D., dean 

I. N. llendall, D. D., president . . . 
George F. Trescot, M. D., dean . . 



35 
103 



213 
107 



12 
100 



57 
242 



250 
G7 

170 

172 

301 

26 

315 

01 

40 

102 

18 

22 

44 

32C 



251 
36 
101 



1, 483 
320 



Free . . 

S130 00 

130 00 

100 00 

105 00 

105 00 

120 00 

55 00 

50 00 

!50 00 
Froo . . 



2,042 



1,458 



0)7 

720 

1,080 



420 
20 



1,040 
506 



1,G34 



42 
100 
180 

14 
310 
411 

60 
3 



138 



40 00 
20 00 
50 00 



140 00 

70 00 

120 00 
126 00 
120 00 
75 00 



50 00 
105 00 
105 00 

50 00 
105 00 

77 00 
140 00 



140 00 
105 00 

75 00 
100 00 
140 00 

72 00 

40 00 
40 00 

GO 00 
25 00 
40 00 
110 00 
140 00 
140 00 
105 00 



120 00 



2,000 
5, 000 
4,000 



1,000 



4,000 



2, 000 
4,000 



2, 000 



1,100 
1, 200 
4,500 



800 
1,.500 



Commencement of lecture 
course. 



July 

Ist'^Ionday in Jnno 

2d Thnisday in September. 
1st ildiiilay ill K(ivcnil)or. . 
1st W( ilni'silay in Xov'bcr. 
l.st Monilay in ilay 



1st Monday in October. 



October 17. 



1,300 



November 1 . . 
October 11.... 

October 3 

Octol)pr3 

November 13 . 
February 15. . 



October 1 

October 2 

September 28 

1st Wednesday in Nov'ber. 

October 2 

March 1 ' 

1st Monday in October 

2d Mmiilav in October 

2d day iif October 

2d day <.f October 

1st Tiunsday in August. . . 

October 1. 

1st Tuesday in September . 

October 12 

1st Tuesday in October 

1st W^odnesday in Nov'ber. 

5tb day of March 

September 13 

1st Wednesday in October. 

1st week in October 

1st Wednesday in October. 



October 5 

October 5 

1st Tuesday in October . . 
1st Friday in November.. 

September 4 

2d Alonday in September . 
1st Th\irsday in October. . 



Int Monday in November. 



10 
11 

12 
13 
14 
15 
16 
17 

18 
19 
20 
21 
22 
23 
24 
25 
26 
27 
28 
2D 
30 
31 
32 
33 
34 
35 
36 

37 
38 

39 
40 
41 
42 
43 
44 
45 
46 
47 
48 
49 
50 

51 
52 
53 
54 
55 
56 

57 



T.B.Buchanan, M. D., secretary. 
A. Erskine, M. D., dean 



203 
23 



1,383 



50 00 
60 00 



Octobers.. 
October 16. 



G. Dowell, M. D., de.an 

Peter Colli.r, Ph. D.,M. D. . ... 

S. Mau|iin. .\. .M., M.I) 

James J!. .McCaw, M. D., dean . 

Johnson Kliot, M. D., dean 

John C. lUley, M. D., dean 



G. S. Palmer, M. D., dean. 



10 



70 00 
100 00 
120 00 
135 00 
135 00 

100 00 



3.5, 000 
1,200 



1st Thursday in March. 

October 1 

October2 

October 2 

1st Monday in October. . 

October 11 



tBoth aeses admitted. 
8ion of the habeas corpus in .-v portion of the State. [Noto by Dr. Trescot.] 
Lebanon, Tenn., still at Memphis. [Noto by Dr. Erskine.] 



474 REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 

Table Xm.— STATISTICS OF MEDICAL, DENTAL, AND PHAEMA 



Name. 



Location. 



2. '^Eclectic." 

Bennett Collejje of Eclectic Medicine and Surgery. 

Eclectic Medical Institute 

Eclectic Medical College 

Electic Medical College 



3. "Botanic. 



Physio-Medical Institute . 
Physio-Medical College*. . 



4. ''Homoeopathic." 



Ilahnemann Medical College 

Ilomceopatbic Medical (^illego 

Homoeopathic Mcitical Cullege 

New York Medical ( 'nllcjci for Woment. 

HomcDopathiu IlospitalColIegeJ 

Hahnemann Medical College 



n.— DEN'TAL. 

Baltimore College of Dental Surgery 

Dental school of Harvard University 

Boston Dental College 

Missouri Dental Collcgo 

New York College of Dentistry 

Ohio College of Dental Surgery 

Peunsvlvahia College of Dental Surgery. 
Philadelphia Dental College 



New Orleans Dental College . 



III.— PHARMACEUTICAL. 

Chicago College of Pharmacy 

Departmentof Pharmacy, Iowa WesloyanUniver'y . 

Kansas College of Pharinacy 

Louisvillo College of Pharmacy 

Maryland Collegii of Pharmacy 

School of PlKinnacy, University of Michigan 

Massac lms( Its (;o)h^ge of Pharmacy 

Mississipjji Culkgo of Pharmacy 

St. Louis College of Pharmacy 

College of Pharmacy of the City of New York 

College of Pharmacy of Baldwin University 

Cincinnati College of Pharmacy. ..: 

Philadelphia College of Pharmacy 

School of Pharmacy of Columbian College 

School of Pharmacy of Georgetown College 

New Orleans College of Pharmacy 



Chicago, HI 

Cincinnati, Ohio 

New York City, N. Y. 
Philadelphia, Pa 



Cincinnati, Ohio 
do 



Chicago, HI 

St. Louis, Mo 

New York City, N. Y. . . , 

do .: 

Cleveland, Ohio 

Philadelphia, Pa 



Baltimore, Md 

Boston, Mass 

do 

St. Louis, Mo 

New York City, N. Y. 

Cincinnati, Ohio 

Philadelphia, Pa 

do 



18C8 
1844 
18C6 

1848 



1859 
1851 



1859 
1858 
1859 
1863 
1849 
1847 



1839 
1808 



New Orleans, La. 



Chicago, HI 

Mount Pleasant, Iowa. . . 

Leavenworth, Kans 

Louisvillo, Ky 

Baltimore, Md 

Ann Arbor, Mich 

Boston, Mass 

J.ackson, Miss 

St. Louis, Mo 

New York City, N. Y. . . 

Bcrea, Ohio 

Cincinnati, Ohio 

Pliihulcliibia, Pa 

Washington, D. C 

do 

New Orleans, La 



1860 
1805 
1845 
1856 
1803 

1807 



1859 
1871 
1809 



1841 

1863 
1867 



1829 
1805 



1821 



1870 
1865 



$25 
25 
30 



10 
20-35 



■At present in .abeyance; formerly (1851-58) devoted to the medical education of both sexea; this 
open the college during the present Bession, 1871-72. [Note by Dr Cnrtifl.] 
I Both sexes admitted. 



Statistical tables. 

CEUTICAL INSTITUTIONS IN THE UNITED STATES— Continned. 



475 



President or dean. 


2 

a 

s 


a 


O 

;-t 
o 

a 

'A 


..J 

1 


n 




i 
•^ 





a 

a 



'A 


Commencement of lecture 
course. 


(4 


Milton Jay, M. D., dean 


14 

7 
7 


103 

213 

76 


iss' 


$50 00 
70 00 
105 00 


""'566' 


October 3 


1 


John M. Sciidclor, M. D., dean 


October IG 





Kobert S. Newton, M. D., pres't.. 


October 12 


•^ 






\ 


"Wm. H. Cook, A. M., M. D., dean. . 


G 






75 00 







1 


A. Curtis, A. M., M. D., dean 








«} 


F. A. Lord, M. D., registrar 

J. T. Temple, M. D., dean 


15 


113 




85 00 




2d Thursday in October 


1 


Carroll Diinhani, M. D., dean 




94 
47 
80 
134 

""27' 


341 

"780' 

CG4 


100 00 

105 00 

90 00 

100 00 

100 00 
110 00 




2d Tuesday in October 


3 


H. F. BiKgar, M. I)., registrar 

H. N. Guernsey, M. D., dean 

F. J. S. Gorgas, M. D., dean 


10 

8 


2,000 


Last Wednesday in Sept 

2d Monday in October 

October 15 


5 
6 

1 


N. C. Keep, M. D. dean 


First Wednesday in Nov'ber 


2 
3 
4 




Ilomer Jiuld, M. D., D.D.S.,dean. . 


9 

8 
7 
7 
7 

8 

3 
3 


20 
30 
30 
74 
73 

2G 
43 


37 

47 
210 

"ioo 

23 
3 


100 00 
150 00 
100 00 
100 00 
100 00 

100 00 

30 00 
35 00 


""ioo 

800 


October 16 


Frank xVlibott, M. L)., dean 


October 15 


>; 


J.Talt.D. D. S., deau 


October 16 


c, 


E. Wildniar, M. D., I). I). S., dean . 




7 


J. H. McQuillen, M. L>., U. D. S., 


November 1 


9 


dean. 
Jas. S. Knapp, D. D. S., dean 




<> 




First Monday in October 


1 


John Wheeler, I>. D., president. . 


B. "W. "Woodward, president 








3 


F. C. Miller, secretary 














\ 


J. Brown Baxlcv, president 


3 
3 
3 


45 
3D 


110 


3G 00 




October 10 


5 


A. B. Prescott, M. D 




a 


George T. n. Markoe, dean 




30 00 






7 


Matt. F. Ash, president 








8 


"W. n. Crawlbril, ])resident 


3 
3 
3 
3 
3 
3 
3 






10 00 
30 00 
45 00 
30 00 
3G 00 
40 00 
40 00 


'"556 




H. A. Cassebeer. jr. secretary . . . 


90 


157 
22 




10 


W. D. Godman, D. D., president.. 




n 


E. S. Wayne, dean 




12 


Kobert Bridges, M. D., dean 


242 
"12 

20 


821 


2,500 




n 


John C. iniev, M. U 


1st Monday in October 


14 


Johnson Eliot, M. D., dean 


S. Logan, M. D., deau 




TG 



















gave rise to the preceding No, 1 ' 
tFor female students only. 



' Botanic ;" charter Las not been surrendered, and it is proposed to 



476 



REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 



•ifjtJiq 
-r[ m gacan 
-|o JO jaqninx 



r-ms JO aaqtim^ 



C5 to r-oi 



cats rHu: 

00 «=g| 



•ejopnj)8 
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STATISTICAL TABLES. 



477 



:g 



cs -Of 5 
in "C^go 



m '0001 ' to ' tom to 

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REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 



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M 



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STATISTICAL TABLES. 



479 



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'480' 



REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 






.8 


1,250 
1,000 
1,000 




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STATISTICAL TABLES. 



431 



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• .000 

O . .K'XIT 



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: " i; S 12 ci c5 e! § 



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482 



REPORT OP THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 



Table Vlir.— SUMMAET OF ESAMINATIOIS' S FOR ADMISSIO^^ TO THE TTNITED STATES 
MILITAKT ACADEIIY FOE FIFTEEN YEAES, FEOM 18oC TO 1870, INCLUSIVE. 





1 

1 


"S. 

o 


Eejected. 




"3 
"o 
H 


On what account. 




1 


Literary incompetency. 


Appointed from— 


In the year— 


c3 


'S 

d 


Deficient in — 


d 



d 
1 

'2 
'2 

1 
2 

i 
i 

i 

16 


GO 

d 
?^ 

'2 

i 

i 

1 

i 
i 

2 
1 

'2 
i 

i 

14 


d 
1 

"3 

3 

'2 
'2 

^1 


d 

i 

1 

"2 

'2 
i 
i 

p 


'-3 

d 

;^ 

'2 

i 

'2 
I 
1 

■■ 
u 




d 
2i 

.. 

'2 

'2 
'3 
2 

11 


P 

XI 

d 

i 

"i 
1 

1 
1 

i 

~8 


■■b 
x> 

d 

1 

i 
2 
2 

'2 

i 
i 

5 


1-5 

d 

3 
1 

i 

"2 
'2 

13 


•0 
■p 

d 

i 

1 

i 
2 
1 

"2 
'2 

i 

15 


g 

d 

'2 
'2 

'2 

i 

2 

14 


X 

s 

d 

^; 

3 
1 
2 

36 


1 

;^ 
1 

3 

23 


0" 
d 

;<=; 

4 

1 

"3 

1 

i 

'2 
5 
1 

i 

c 

4 

'2 

i 

7 

'5 

G 

i 
1 

"4 

1 
7 


. >-. 

S P. 

n 

d 


fcb 

n 

"2, 


0* 



a 
1 


>-. 

.a 

ci 
t~> 
tc 
3 

d 

7 

I 

1 
3 

'4 
2 
3 

2 

1 
3 
1 


cS 

3 

g 

ci 

i 

7 
2 

2 

3 

■3 
4 
3 

1 
1 
1 
1 
1 
2 

'5 

c 
1 

3 

io 
'g 
"5 

'2 

2 

1 

'3 
1 
1 

i 

3 

'9 






6 

|2i 


d 


1 


d 


6 
"A 


Alabama. . 


32 
10 
15 
22 
11 

4 
32 
55 
C7 
24 

6 
CO 
18 
26 
32 
43 
29 
11 
24 
48 

5 

7 
14 
27 
157 
32 
111 

4 
127. 

7 
22 
43 

8 

13 
40 
10 
27 

r, 

4 

3 

4 
3 

2 

4 

1 

1 

192 


20 

7 

12 

14 

C 

4 

23 

47 

46 

19 

3 

43 

14 

25 

42 

20 

9 

IC 

32 

4 

1 

12 

25 

128 

20 

80 

3 

101 

7 

17 

33 

5 

12 

34 

C 

20 

5 

2 

4 

3 

4 

3 

...... 

1 

170 


12 
3 
3 
8 
5 
....„ 

8 
21 
5 
3 
17 
4 
4 
7 
1 
9 
2 

8 

16 
1 
6 
2 
2 

29 
6 

31 
1 

26 

5 
15 
3 
1 

12 
4 
7 
1 
2 
1 

'""4 

22 




11 
2 
3 
6 
5 

'9' 
7 

19 
4 
3 

17 
3 
4 
5 
1 
8 
2 

7 

15 
1 
6 
1 
1 

25 
6 

27 
1 

20 

"4' 
12 
3 
1 

11 
3 
5 
1 
2 

1 
4 

"io 


5 
1 


3 
1 


4 

1 
2 
4 
4 

"7' 
1 
9 
3 
1 
9 
3 
2 
3 


7 




■^ 


Connecticut 


2 

"7' 

5 

17 

4 

8 
2 
3 
3 


2 
.. 
2 
1 
8 
3 

■= 

"■ 
2 



4 








■> 






1 
1 


1 




T 








1 


Kentucky 

Louisiana 


::■: 


1 

i 
1 

'2 
1 
3 

i 

"3 

i 

16 


6 
1 

9, 




1 


Mnssn.ATinsPtts 




Michigan 


6 
2 
4 
12 


4 
6 


3 

1 
4 

7 


1 


3 


Minnesota 

Mississippi 


'5 


Nebraska 


1 




1 
1 




3 


1 
1 

'6 
1 
3 

'4 

i 
3 

'3 
1 

i 

■ - 

2 

6 
80 


1 


New nampsbiro . . 

New Jersey 

New York 

North Carolina . . . 
Ohio 


1 




1 

6 
4 
9 

1 
10 

'3' 
3 
3 

"g 

1 
3 

i 
'3' 


1 


15 

18 


1 
1 
13 


6 
1 
\ 


Oregon 




Pennsylvania 

Ebode Island 

South Carolina 

Tennessee 

Texas 


13 


10 
1 
1 
8 
2 
3 

173 


6 

■• 
.. 
4 

.. 

'4 
1 
1 

i 

'7 


4 

2 
2 
1 








9 


"West Virginia 

"Wisconsin 

Dist. Columbia . . . 

Colorado Ter 

New Mexico 

Utah Ter 




"Washington Ter . . 

Dakota Tor 

Arizona Ter 

Idaho Ter 


«> 






"Wyoming Ter 


6 






Grand totals . . 


1,459 1,133 


326 


41 


70 


285 


76 


133 


98 


81 



STATISTICAL TABLES. 



483 



a:ABLE Vm— Continued.— SUMMARY OF EXAMINATIONS FOR ADMISSION TO THE UNITED 
STATES MILITARY AND NAVAL ACADEMIES DURING THE YEAR 1871. 





U. S. MILITARY ACADEMY. 


U. S. NAVAL ACADEMY. 




1 

'3 

a 

y 

d 


o 
n 

a 
P. 

o 

o 

d 
'A 


UEJECTED. 


% 

1 
d 

1 
1 


73 
"0 

'^ 

d 

"A 

1 
1 


REJECTED. 




"3 
d 


On what account. 




H 

d 
1^ 


On what account. 


STATES 
AND 


3 
■§ 
.2 
'3 

C3 
■« 

6 
"A 


For cloficiency in — 


1 


For deficiency in— 


TERRITORIES. 


a 
d 


> ° 
6 


6 

a 

.a 

< 

6 
"A 

1 
1 




c 

d 
"A 

3 


s 
s 

-J 

6 
A 

2 
1 


c 
% 

a 

3 

1 


fcb 


d 

l2i 


«| 

.3 £ 

i-i ^ 

d 


d 
A 


5- 

c 

"A 


u 

a 
5 

c 
A 




CO 

a 

d 




4 

1 


1 


3 

1 




























































2 

1 


1 
1 


1 








1 








1 
1 


"1 


1 






h 










Dcla ware 
















Florirla 


































Georgia 


4 
3 
4 
4 
1 

1 


"2 
3 

1 

4 

1 


4 

1 
1 


1 






T 

1 


2 


2 


3 
i 


3 

C 


3 
3 

4 


















Illinois 






2 






2 


2 

2 


2 

1 


1 

2 


















Iowa 














Kansas 


















....|.... 












Kent iic-k V 


3 




2 


3 


2 


2 




2 


2 
1 
1 
4 
2 
1 
1 
3 
3 


1 
1 

1 

2 
2 

"i 

2 
3 


1 


























"i\Iaiiii> 




















































2 






1 




1 








4 


3 


1 






















Micliiiian 
























1 


1 




Minnesota 




























3 
4 


3 
1 






















1 




1 


1 




Missouri 


3 






2 








2 






Nebraska 


























Nevada 


1 


1 






































New 1 lampsbiro 


















1 
2 
11 

5 


1 
2 
9 
1 
3 

1 

"i 

3 




















2 
15 


1 

10 


1 














"1 

2 


















New York 


2 




1 




2 









1 
1 




1 







North Carolina 








Ohio 


9 
1 
13 

2 


8 
1 

8 
1 


1 


































Pennsylvania 


5 

1 


2 
1 


1 


] 


1 






2 


5 

1 

5 




1 

1 




3 




3 


- 




Rhodc'island 


























Tennessee ' 4 


3 



1 

1 
1 

1 


1 








1 








1 








Texas J 2 




















ViTmont 1 1 


















2 
1 


1 


^ 






1 










Virjrinia 


f> 


4 








2 






2 


1 










AVest Virginia 


1 
2 






















1 






1 


1 








2 
1 


2 
1 


















Arizona Ter 






















Colorado Ter 


1 


1 


































Dakot.a Ter 






































District of Columbia 










































Idaho Ter 










































Montana Ter 






















1 
1 


1 
1 


















New Mexico Ter 


1 
1 


1 
1 


































Utah Ter 


































AVashinffton Ter 


















1 


1 


















AVyoniinK Ter 






































r oreigu 






















*1 
17 

97 


1 
15 

71 


















At largo 


13 
119 


10 

77 


3 

42 


11 






1 


n 


24 


22 


2 

2G 






1 
15 


21 


1 
11 


1 

10 






3 


10 


3 





— 







^ A Japanese student. 



484 REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OP EDUCATION. 

Table V.— STATISTICS OF NOEMAl 



Name. 



Location. 



Principal. 



State Normal School 

Arkadelpbia Normal School 

Girls' Normal School 

State Normal School 

State Normal School 

Normal University • 

East Florida Seminary 

West Florida Seminary 

9 Normal dep't Atlanta University. . . 

10 State Normal Uuiverstty 

il Cook County Isormal School 

12 Normal class of West (idd College... 

13 Normal dep't of Eurcl^aCcillese 

14 Addison Teachers' Seminary 

15 County Normal School 

IG Southern Illinois Normal University 
1" County Normal Schools 

18 City Normal School 

19 Northwestern German-English Nor- 

mal School. 

20 State Normal School 

21 City Traininii School 

22 City Training School 

23 Normal dep't of Iowa College 

24 Teachers' dep't of Tahor College 

25 Normal dep't ot Iowa University 

26 City Training School 

27 State Normal School 

28 Ely Normal School 

29 Normal course of Georgetown Coll . . 

30 Normal department Berea College. . . 

31 New Orleans Normal School 

32 Normal dep't Straiglit University 

33 Eastern State Normal Seliool 

34 Western State Normal School 

35 State Normal School 

Sti County Normal School 

37 State Normal School 

38 State Normal School 

39 State Normal School 

40 State Normal School 

41 Cit J' Normal School 

42 City Normal Scliool 

43 Girls' High and Normal School 

44 State Normal School 

45 First State Normal School 

4G Second State Normal School 

47 Third State Normal School , 

48 State Normal 

49 Normal and Manual Labor School 

50 North Missouri State Normal School 

51 Fruitland Normal School 

52 State Normal School 

53 Coll. of Normal Instruct'n.Univ.of Mo. 

54 Central Normal School 

55 City Kormal School 

56 State Normal School 

57 State Normal School 

58 Farnum Preparatory School 

59 State Normal School 

60 State Normal School 

61 State Normal School 

62 Liberty Normal Institute 

63 State Normal School 

64 State Normal School 

65 State Normal School 

66 State Normal School 

67 State Normal School 

68 State Nu'mal Scliool 

69 Normal Colli c(' of City of New York. 
■70 Normal depaitin't Ingliam University. 

71 Normal College, University of N. C 

72 St. Augustine Normal School 

73 Central Normal School 

74 Western Ivcseive Normal School 

75 Northwestern Normal School 



Talladega, Ala 

Arkadelphia, Ark . 
San Francisco, Cal . 

San Jos6, Cal 

New Britain, Conn . 
Wilmington, Del . . . 

Gainsville, Fla 

, Fla 



1869 
1869 

1802 
1849 
1867 



Eev. John Jordan . . . 

Elli.s H. Holmes 

W.T. Lucky,A.M.,D.D 
Isaac N. Carleton, A. M 
John C. Harkness 



Atlanta, Ga 

Normal, 111 

Englewood, HI 

Westfield, 111 

Eureka, 111 

Addison, HI 

Peoria, 111 

Carbondale, 111 

Bureau County, 111. 

Chicago, 111 

Galena, 111 



1857 
1868 



E. A. Ware, A. M . . . 

i). S. Went worth 

H. W. Everest, A. M. 



18G8 
1809 



A. Ethridge 



1860 J. Weruli 



1867 
1867 

1807 



1806 
1803 
1864 



1858 
1809 
1807 
1H03 
1865 



1839 
1839 
ia54 
1840 



1852 

1847 



Terre Haute, Ind 

Fort Wayne, Ind 

Indianapolis, Ind ...... 

Grinnell, Iowa 

Tabor, Iowa 

Iowa City, Iowa 

Davenport, Iowa 

Emporia, Kans 

Louisville, Ky 

Georgetown, Ky 

Berea, Ky , 

New Orleans, La 

New Orleans, La 

Castine, Mo 

Farmington, Me 

Baltimore, Md 

Alleghany Cotmty, Md 

Westfield, Mass 

Framingham, Mass 

Salem, Mass 

Bridgewater, Mass 

Boston, Mass 

Worcester, Mass 

Boston, Mass 

Tpsilanti, Mich 

Winona, Minn 

Mankato, Minn 

St. Cloud, Minn 

Holly Springs, Miss 

Tugaloo, Miss 

Kirksville, Mo 

Fruitland, Mo 

Warrensburgh, Mo 

Columbia, Mo 

Sedalia, Mo 

St. Louis, Mo 

Peru, Nebr I 1807 

Trenton, N.J 

Beverly, N.J 

Plymouth, N.H 

Albany, N.Y 

Oswego, N. Y 

Liberty, N.Y 

Brockport, N. Y 

Cortland, N.Y 

Fredonia, N. Y 

Potsdam, N. Y 

Buffalo, N.Y 

Gencseo, N. Y 

New York, N.Y 

LeKoy, N. Y 

Chapel Hill, N.C.... 

Ealeigh, N. C 

Worthington, Ohio . . 

Milan, Ohio 

Ada, Ohio 



W. A. Jones, A. M 

Mary H. Swann 

Amanda F. Funnell 

George F. Magoun, D. D 



S.N.Fellows 

Mrs. M. A. Mcgonegal. 
George W. Hoss, A. M. . 



N. M. Crawford, D. D . 
E.H.Fairchild,D.D.. 

Mrs. K. Shaw 

J. W. Hcaley 

J. T. Fletcher, A. M . . 
C.C. Bounds, M.S.... 
M.A.NeweU 



J. W. Dickinson, A. M. 

Annio E. .Johnson 

D. B. Hagar, A. M 

A. J. Boyden. A. M 



1807 
1809 
1871 
1807 



Ephraim Hunt 

D. P. Mayhew 

Wm. F. Phelps, A. M 

Geo. M. Gage 

Ira Moore 

S. W. Garmen 



1857 



1870 
1841 

1801 

isco' 

1806 
18(i7 
1866 
1867 
1867 



1857 



1808 



J. Baldwin 

J.H.Kerr 

Geo. P. Beard, AM. 
D.Read,LL.D 



Anna C. Brackett . . . 
H.U. Straight, A.B.. 
Lewis M. Johnson, A.M. 
Lewis M. Johnson, A.M, 
Prof. S. U. Pearl, A. M- . 
J.Alden,D.D.,LL.D... 

E.A.Sheldon 

M.B.Hall 



Henry S. Randall 

Jno. W.Armstrong, D.D, 
M.McVicar,Ph.D.,LL.D 



T. Hunter, A. M 

S.D.Burchard, D.D.... 

S.Pool 

Eov.J. B.Smith, D.D. . 
W. MitcheU & J. Ogden 



H. S. Lehr. 



STATISTICAL TABLES. 



485 



SCHOOLS m THE UNITED STATES. 





i NUMBEK OP STU- 
' £ DENTS. 

1 '-' 


11 

^0 






si 

■a M 

a V 


Annual appro- 
priation from 
State or city. 


11 

p. 




S3 \ 

-s 1 


3 « 

'r 1 



a 


3 



H 


Time of anniversary. 






















2 


3 83 

9 

3 3-2 

5 10 

6 59 


102 

250 
li-2 
114 

27 


185 . 
250 . 
164 
124 
86 












September 25. 


253 
24 
10 


3 years.. 
2 j-cars.. 


400 . 
1,500 






3 


$8,000 00 . 




May. 


4 




.5 
6 










Last week in May. 
































9 
10 


108 


59 


167 . 














3 years.. 


3,000 


12, 500 00 !| 


100 to 200 


Third Thursday in June. 


11 

12 
13 
14 
15 

IG 
17 

18 
19 

20 
21 
22 
23 
24 
25 
26 
27 
23 
29 
30 
31 
32 
33 
34 


2 13 


70 


83 . 


















3 93 


13 


40 
93 




























































































6 203 
8 61 


118 
74 


321 
135 




3 years.. 
2to4yr3 


250 






First Monday of Sept. 


































3 C6 




CO 






























































4 81 


106 


187 




^p«Y.q 










y 












































June 26. 


















Third Saturday in June. 










3 years. - 










7 44 
7 93 
6 24 


96 
49 
139 


140 
142 
103 




2 years.. 


1,200 


2, 000 00 
4, 400 00 
8, 000 00 


160 00 


Third Thursday in March. 


2 years. . 


500 




Last Thursday in May. 


35 
36 
37 
38 
39 
40 
41 
42 
43 
44 
45 
46 
47 
48 
49 
50 
51 






7 17 

9 

9 

7 38 


113 
98 

152 
90 


135 
98 
152 
134 




2 to 4 yrs 


1,300 

900 

8,000 

5,000 


8, .'iOO 00 
8, 500 00 
8, 500 00 
8, 500 00 


ioi) 00 

1G3 CO 
175 00 

200 00 


Third Thursday in July. 
Last Tuesday oi'cach term. 
Last of Jan., & 1st July. 
Second week in July. 


































33 

10 119 
8 57 
8 43 
4 15 
1 32 


630 
10 
159 
111 

67 

18 


C30 
129 
210 
154 
82 
50 




3 to 4 yrs 








September. 




10, 000 00 
5, 000 00 






2 years.. 


3,000 


ICO 00 


Fourth week in June. 


9 • >'irV 






























13 193 


128 


321 
52 

87 
30 


"ii' 


4 vpirs 




















5 42 
5 20 


45 
10 












53 
54 
55 
56 
57 
58 
59 
60 
61 
62 
63 
64 
65 
66 
67 
68 
6S 
70 
71 
75 
7S 
"H 
7. 




3,000 




140 to 200 


Last Thursday in July. 










6 










91 

50 
3,000 
1,000 


3,531 95 


75 14 
150 00 
150 00 
IGO 00 

24 00 
leo 00 
IGO 00 


Third week in June. 


4 41 

7 36 
6 24 


51 
256 
101 


92 
292 
125 




3 years. 


Last week in June. 


10, 000 00 
2, 400 00 


LastThursdavJaii.&June 






June and December. 








14 

8 88 


275 
344 


275 
432 

77 


1,879 
314 




1,200 
241 


16, Olio 00 
16, 000 00 






July 8 and February 4. 




. July 8. 










750 


12, 000 00 






.... CO 


75 


135 












































































'27' v.... 


. 804 


804 












































2 39 


34 


73 












. September 27. 
































i "3 i "ec 


51 


131 





. 4 years. 












486 REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION 

Table V.— STATISTICS OF NORMAL 



Name. 



Location. 



PrincipaL 



90 
91 
92 
93 
94 
95 
96 
97 
98 
99 
100 
101 
102 
103 
104 
105 
100 
107 
108 
109 
110 
111 
112 
113 
114 



Orwell Normal Institute 

National Normal School 

McNecly Normal School 

Teachers' Institute of Oberlin College. 
Normal dep't Wilberl'orce University. 
Normal dep't Mount Union College. . . 
Normal dep't Willamette University. 

Normal course Pacific University 

State Normal School 

State Normal School 

State Normal School 

State Normal School 

State Normal School 

Girls' Normal School 

Normal dopartm't Lincoln University. 

Normal course Palatinate College 

State Normal School 

Normal class Avery Institute 

Normal class Fish University 

Normal dep't Central Tenn. College. . 

Normal Department , 

Normal dep't EastTenn.WesleyanUn. 

State Normal School 

State Normal School 

State Normal School 

Hampton Normal Institute 

Eichmond Normal School 

State Normal School 

Normal department Storer Collpp;6 . . . 
Normal dep't West Virginia Collego . 

State Normal School 

State Normal School 

State Normal School 

Normal department Kipon Collego . . . 

State Normal School 

State Normal School 

Stnte Normal School 

Normal dep't Howard University 

Normal dep't University of Deseret. . 



Orwell, Ohio 

Lebanon, Ohio 

Hopedale, Ohio 

Oberlin, Ohio 

Near Xenia, Ohio 

Mount Union, Ohio 

Salem, Oreg 

Forest Grove, Oreg 

MiUersville, Pa 

Edinborough, Pa 

Bloomsbur^h, Pa 

Mansfield, Pa 

Kutztown, Pa 

Philadelphia, Pa 

Oxford, Pa 

Myerstown, Pa 

Bristol, E. I 

Charleston, S. C 

Nashville, Tenn 

Nashville, Tenn 

Lookout Mountain, Tenn.. 

Athens, Tenn 

Johnson, Vt 

Eandolph,Vt 

Castleton, Vt 

Hampton, Va 

Eichmond, Va 

West Liberty, W. Va 

Harper's Ferry, W. Va 

Flomington, W. Va 

Marshall Coll. P. 0., W. Va. 

Fairmont, W. Va 

Whitewater, Wis 

Eipon, Wis 

PlatteviUe, Wis 

Madison, Wis 

Gshkosh, AYis 

Washington, D. C 

Salt Lake City, Utah 



1805 
1852' 



1859 
18G1 

18G9 
1862 
1866 
184S 
1854 



1852 



H. U.Johnson 

A. Holbrook 

W. Brinkerhoof 

Jas. H. Fairchild, D. D . 

D. A. Payne, B.D 

O. N. Uartsliorne, LL.D. 

L. J. Powell, A. M 

S. H. Marsh, D. D 

E. Brooks, A.M 

J. A. Cooper 

n. Carver, A.M 

C. H. Verrill, A. M 

J. S. Ermeutraut 

G.W. Fetter 

L N. Eendall, D. D 

H. E. Nicks, A.M 



1E66 
1866 



1S67 
1867 
1868 
1868 
1867 
1870 



1868 
1869 
1866 



1866 
1862 
1867 



Prof. Spence 

J. Braden, A.M 

C. F. P. Bancroft, A.M.. 
N. E.Cobloigh,D.D.... 
S.U. Pearl 

E. Conaut 

E.G.Williams 

S. C. Armstrong 

An drew Washburn 

F. n. Crago 

N.C.Brackett.A.M.... 
Eev.A.D. Williams.A.M 

S. E. Thompson 

J.Blair 

Oliver Arev, A. M 

W. E. Merriman, A. M 
E. A. Charloton 



Gen.O.O.Hownrd, LL.D. 
John E. Park, M. D 



STATISTICAL TABLES. 



487 



SCHOOLS IN THE UNITED STATES— Continued. 





o S 

II 

'A 


KVMBEK OF 
DENTS. 


STU- 


1^ 

il 
.22 





Number of vol- 
umes in libra- 
ry- 


m 

•S.2 ° 


2d 
c_ 



3 CI 

« 

< 






.2 
3 


«5 

"a 

i 



H 


Timo of anniversary- 


76 

77 
78 
79 
80 
81 
82 
83 
84 
85 
86 
87 
88 
89 


4 
4 
6 


120 
239 
110 


120 
145 
165 


240 
384 
175 


8 








$150 00 


jQno22. 










43 








150 00 


Juno 23. 










""4' 


10 


15 


31 

242 

31 




























31 














8 
8 
10 
11 
















480 
175 
210 
112 


207 
110 
151 
110 


747 
285 
361 






3,900 

1,662 

630 

2,000 


$5,000 00 
5, 000 00 
5, 000 00 
5, 000 00 


200 00 
170 00 
184 00 
178 00 


Tbird Thursday in July. 












Third Thursday in June. 














11 








1,019 




500 


11, 925 24 


2 75 


February and July. 


90 
91 
92 
93 


9 




9 



























































94 
95 
96 
97 


" 




















2 
1 


32 
21 


20 
12 


52 
33 












































93 
346 
19 
86 
40 
82 
167 
39 














99 


4 

5 
3 
3 

7 
1 
2 


9 










500 
500 




150 00 
160 00 




100 
101 
102 
103 
104 
105 
106 
107 
108 
109 
110 


3 
54 

90 
30 


16 
32 
40 
30 

77 
9 








Third Wednesday in i'eb. 










3 years.. 
2 to 4 yrs. 


400 






October 1. 






























2 to 4 yrs. 
2 to 4 yrs. 










20 
80 


"iio" 


20 
190 










































3 years.. 


600 


8,000-10,000 


50 00 


Last week in Jane. 


111 




































113 
114 


2 


1 


13 


14 





























1 1 











39 C E 



488 



STATISTICAL TABLES. 



•3()ji4v 'joa pinD;5 



en 



•puoj !jou ptnoQ 






Sounp pagjBqjeip 'o^ 



lO CO ^ 05 






•a3i9ioj 



•9Am;^ 



•J3qranj;[ 



O Cl r^ -^ 
0< rl iH 



OrH C3 00 



i^ ro ■^ ^ 



•inoj. 



OlOO 1- 



•aiBHioj 



•apK 



p t^ tE 



s rt s 



1- 1- I- o 






oo 

00 00 



OP 



o oo o 
1- i- i- i- 

00 C^ 00 CO 



r" o o o 






•pauodo naqAV. 



OO'9'l.OCOOOOl^MiOOOO t->OO-^^t^C?Ol.-5OOaDC^C0 -^OOOCl 
LO ITS O CO CO O ^ O LO -^ C^ CI O lO to O O CD C» O -^ O O O C» LO O CO CO CO 
00 00 CO 00 00 00 00 oo GO oo 00 00 00 oo 00 00 00 00 CO 00 00 oo 00 oo CO 00 00 CO GO 00 



Pi -43 



I 






PpapH 



^2 



Mo 



St 



?1 






oo 



^5,>>^.5 



■ C3 ^ 

3 --'^ 



M «" C.= i^ =£r5 Ki' 



«3-2> 



■g'gp^-^__ ^ J^ 



cciSu^fi 






si. 



?^3 









.as 



>^ -2 S.Sri 
!z;^oo.S 



"^ ^ 5:; 03 



ri«(> 



» . o b o P ^ t H 



Pi_)h?mS>tE?k :p5o>-ioph 



q.a c3 cfl S! 



o 

sil 



•or3'« 



O <J 



^rh 2 ■ 2 



.a O 



oO 



f^ 



C "c^ M C' O [i O 3 Ci 
jg«OK«ogO*J 

loRccBHa^Hiy:^ 



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- o o 

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; c -J c -■;,-; .S c 



'■" '"^ ^- ■*< 

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O C rt 






REPORT OF THE COMMISSIONER OF EDUCATION. 489 



• 
Estimated tnio 
value of real 
and personal 
propt.'rty in 
tbo State. 






.o 
.o 

'o 

:S 

• o" 

• o 

• o" 
'• 1— 






o 

o 
o 

o 

o 

§ 


o 


• o 
'. ° 

. T 

• i- 

Ico 

:i 


o 
= 

o 

o 

§ 




o 

§ 
1 
1 












o 

s 

c 
d 

c 
1- 






i 

o 
o 
cT 

K 

in 

s 




o 

i 




- 












Assessed valua- 
f ion of real 
and personal 
pro- erty in 
the State. 






'■ o 
. o 

! QO 

. o 

• o 
■ jf 

'• m 






'o 

o 

s 

o 

o" 
o 

o" 


'■a 

■ o 

• CO 

• Cj 

'■ ITJ" 

■ ^ 

■ o 


■ cT 


§ 

o 

CI 

■?f 

:i 


■ oo 

C3 I- 

ill 

■ o o 












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o o 

•^ 00 

c'r-T 
o o 


s 

s 

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o 
<= 

o 

o 

o" 

o 






g 

>n 
« 






1 

a 
.2 

1 

P4 


o 
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• o 








o" 
o 






i 

?5 


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S3 

1.-5 cT 


o 
to 

o 




o 

o 

i.n 
to 








o 












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i 




o 


(MO 

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in 00 












rH r- 

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o 




o 

§ 

CI 








.00 

s 

?! 






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punj looqas 
1 p -J s A n I 
i luo-ij asuaaa'ni 
























o 
o 

oo" 


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o 

to 
n 


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490 



EDUCATION AND EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS. 



5.§ 









o 






!z! o 9?Q:^ 



1. J ^»^i^j s <- td ^TJ 

'^ "• S" Z~< _2 ^ ?i-' 

2 t^ -• 9 ~ =£. S 

2. o f^ 2 S o" 



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3 =;•«■?•"■-' 3 



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r'3'^ 

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ro 



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c" — H! 2 "-T ? ?;■ 

£. 5 '?^ 3 — • ® a" 
p - 39 o ^ 3 j: 

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O O . fO p ^ Hg 



a ^.1.3 



greS-"'^2E:==S'^^^"3^2~-^S£.25nEi3£.fr2.p2'5f^ 
g-JB » 5 ^j. g-S "g as.S-S 2."^ = § ^ rr.o« ^ 3 

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p £,0 
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APPENDIX. 



THE DEVELOPMENT OF RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS IN THE UNITED STATES, 

UNDER THE VOLUNTARY SYSTEM OF EQUAL RELIGIOUS RIGHTS 

TO ALL, WITHOUT STATE PREFERENCES OR STATE 

SUPPORT TO ANY FORM OF FAITH. 



A condensed summary of the origin, rise, progress, growth, doctrines, and 
present condition of each religious sect and denomination in the United 
States, explaining, from the writings of each, the points in wiiicli they 
differ from the others, and giving the localities in which tlioy arc most 
numerous. To Avhicli is added the progress and present condition of each 
denomination in the education of the ministry, in denominational or 
sectarian schools, in Sunday schools, in the number and elegance of their 
houses of worship, and in the support of Home and Foreign Missions, 
Bible, Tract, and Publication Societies, and other benevolent and charitable 
institutions, entirely devoid of sectarianism. 



The Growth and Progress of Eeligious Denominations 
in the United States for the past Hundred Tears. 



The religious character of the Colonies in 
1770, was substantially that which had been 
imposed on them at the time of their first 
settlement, and was of necessity very diverse 
in diffei-ent sections. Massachusetts and 
Connecticut, (or rather the ditferent colonies 
which had united under these names) had been 
founded by the Puritans or Independents, 
seceders fiom the Church of England, who 
had organized sometimes as independent 
churches during the reigns of James I. and 
Charles I. These were, in 1770, the pre- 
dominant churches — " the standing order," 
as they Avere termed, and the established re- 
ligious body of the colonies, though Episco- 
palians, Baptists, a few Methodists, and a 
considerable number of " Separates " were 
tolerated, and by " signing off" or avowing 
themselves adherents to one or the other of 
these denominations, and pledging them- 
selves to sustain it, their ecclesiastical taxes 
could be, in part, remitted. The " Sepa- 
rates" were mainly converts under the 
preaching of Whitfield and his followers in 
1740—50, who were opposed to an estab- 
lished church, and believed in the voluntary 
system. Maine was largely settled from 
Massachusetts, and followed its lead in re- 
ligious matters. New Hampshire had two 
distinct religious elements in its early set- 
tlement — the Puritan or Congregational — 
and the Presbyterian, represented by the 
Protestant Irish settlers of several of its 
towns. At the period we speak of there was 
a larger measure of toleration of other de- 
nominations there than in Massachusetts. 
Rhode Island had been settled by Baptists 
driven from INIassachusetts a hundred and 
forty years before, on account of their avow- 
al of their religious belief. It was the only 
one of the New England colonies in which, 
even at that time (1770,) there w'as complete 
liberty of conscience, and its population were 
of all denominations. Baptists, Quakers, Sep- 
arates, Independents, Presbyterians, Episco- 
palians, lioman Catholics, Fifth Monarchy 
Men, etc., etc Vermont, or " New Hamp- 



shire Grants," was not an independent State 
till after the Revolution, and its few inhab- 
itants were of all shades of religious belief, 
or of none, at this time. New York, origi- 
nally settled by the Dutch, had had the Re- 
formed Dutch or Holland Church for its es- 
tablished church till 1684, but after its con- 
quest by the English the church of England 
had in turn become the established religion, 
and under some of the colonial governors, 
Presbyterians, Baptists, and Quakers were 
persecuted and imprisoned. This persecu- 
tion had, however, ceased some years before 
this period, and though the Episcopal church 
was still the state church, its prestige waned 
subsequently during the years of the revolu- 
tion, from the flict that, in that colony, the 
greater part of its members were tories, and 
sympathizers with the British. The Pres- 
byterians were considerably numerous in 
New York, the Baptists and Methodists less 
so, and there w'cre a few Roman Catholics. 

Pennsylvania had been settled by the 
Quaker Penn, for a refuge for the sorely 
persecuted Quakers of England and Amer- 
ica, but it was open to all denominations, and 
to those who had no religious beliefs. The 
Quakers or Friends Avere predominant in 
numbers, but Episcopalians, Presbyterians, 
Baptists, Methodists, Lutherans, and Roman 
Catholics, were all received cordially. 

New Jersey and Delaware had a moder- 
ate Swedish and Danish (Lutheran) ele- 
ment, but the former had a much larger con- 
stituency of Irish Presbyterians, and was, 
befoi-e the Revolution, probably the most 
thoroughly Presbyterian colony of the whole 
thirteen. There was not, however, at this 
time, so far as we can learn, anything like 
an established church in the colony. 

Maryland Avas founded and settled by 
Lord Baltimore and his kinsmen, the Cal- 
verts and Carrolls, all of them Roman Cath- 
olics ; but to their honor, be it said, there 
was complete religious toleration from the 
first, and in 1770 the Catholics had but a 
slight majority among the inhabitants ; still 



KELIGIOUS DENOMIXATIONS. 



493 



it was the predominant foith of the people of 
the colony. 

Virginia, settled by the younger sons of 
the English nobility and their friends at first, 
and its population subseciuently largely in- 
creased by the great number of*' redemption- 
ers," (paupers, convicts, etc., sent over and 
sold for a term of years to pay for their pass- 
age,) had up to the commencement of the 
Itevolution, recognized the church of Eng- 
land as the established cluu'ch of the colony, 
and at times had persecuted sharply other 
denominations. Through the influence of 
such men as Patrick Henry, Thomas Jeffer- 
son, and others, who, though not religious 
men themselves, yet saw the necessity for re- 
ligious liberty, that priuci{)le was incorpo- 
rated in its first constitution as a State. 

North Carolina and South Carolina were 
settled largely by Protestant Irish (Presby- 
terians,) Huguenots (Protestant Reformed 
Church,) Moravians, and other Germans, 
mostly Protestant ; their constitutions and 
charters were favorable to religious liberty. 

Georgia, the youngest of the colonies, was 
iargely settled by the followers of Whitfield 
and AVesley, and was, moreover, a refuge for 
persecuted Protestants from the states of 
continental Europe. The largest religious 
liberty cxi-ted here from the first. 

Such was the religious, or rather denomi- 
national history of the thirteen colonies when 
they came together by their representatives 
in the Continental Congress. Every form 
of christian belief then known, had its ad- 
herents in one colony or another. Most of 
them assimilated to a considerable extent 
by their years of intercourse during the war, 
abolished all restrictions on complete relig- 
ious liberty (where any existed) before the 
adoption of the constitution, but Massachu- 
setts and Connecticut retained theirs till the 
adoption of new and revised constitutions in 
the early part of the present century. It is 
to be said in their favor, however, that these 
restrictions were not, after the revolution, so 
severe or onerous as those under which the 
dissenters in England groan to-day. 

Meanwhile there had grown up a second 
tier of States beyond the AUegliauies, Avhich 
were now knocking for admission to the Union. 
What were the religious denominations to 
be found in these ? In general, we may an- 
swer, that they were the same with those of 
the States from which most of their inhabit- 
ants had come. Thus Ohio, settled largely 



from New England, especially in its north- 
ern half, had a predomiuance of Congrega- 
tionalists, with some JNIethodists and Bap- 
tists in that section, and in the southern por- 
tion which was peopled from Pennsylvania 
and Virginia, a large proportion of Presby- 
terians, Lutherans, Quakers, and many Ger- 
man Methodists, with some Episcopalians 
and Baptists. Kentucky and Tennessee had 
at this time more of the Presbyterian ele- 
ment, modified by the great awakening of 
1801-2 to the Cumberland Presbyterian 
creed, while Baptists and Methodists alike 
were gainiiig the affections of large numbers 
of the people. A few years later other forms 
of faith made great inroads into the ranks 
of the older denominations. Alabama, set- 
tled mostly from Georgia and Tennessee, 
though with some admixture of northern 
men, drawn thither by its commercial facili- 
ties, had many representatives of most of the 
older denominations, but did not in its early 
history give much heed to the apostles of new 
faiths. The i)urchase of Louisiana in 1803, 
added a considerable Catholic element to the 
religious population of the country, not only 
in Louisiana proper, but in Mississippi, and in 
the states and territories subsequently organ- 
ized west of the Mississippi. In fact there 
were scattered Catholic churches in all the 
French and Spanish forts and trading sta- 
tions throughout the northwest, and these, 
though very feeble and widely scattered, 
served as nuclei for more extensive establish- 
ments as the country was settled. Detroit, 
Michigan ; Vincennes, Indiana ; Vandalia, 
Kaskaskia, and Joliet, Illinois ; two or three 
points in Wisconsin, and as many in Illinois, 
St. Louis, and some other points in Missouri, 
Bardstown, Kentucky, and missions in Ar- 
kansas and Kansas, indicate how zealously 
the French Catholic priests had planted theii' 
outposts throughout the Mississip[)i valley. As 
yet, however, the Catholics were not strong 
anywhere in the United States, and it was not 
until immigration commenced on a large scale 
from Ireland and Germany that they attain- 
ed to a prominent position among the religious 
denominations of the country. The German 
immigration, as well as that at a later date from 
Sweden and Norway, also largely increased 
the number of Lutheran and German Reform- 
ed churches, and that from England, Scotland, 
and the north of Ireland, enured mainly to 
the benefit of the Presbyterians, and Meth' 
odists, though a minority were Baptists. 



494 



RELIGIOUS DENOMINATIONS. 



Several denominations, some ot them now 
among the larger religious bodies of the 
country, have either originated here or 
had their principal development in the 
United States. The first of these in the 
order of time was the Shakers, or followers 
of Mother Ann Lee. This noted religious 
leader was born and lived for many years in 
England, and claimed to have received her 
first and principal revelations there ; but she 
had not a score of adherents when she came 
to the United States in 1774, and it was not 
till about 1780 that she had any considerable 
number of disciples, and it was not till 1805 
that the societies of the Shakers were estab- 
lished at any great distance from their first 
center, Watervliet. The disciples, or fol- 
lowers of Alexander Campbell, were first 
organized as a distinct body of christians 
about 1810, but did not increase very rapid- 
ly till about 1831. They are now about in 
the fifth or sixth rank among the religious 
denominations of the country. 

The United Brethren in Christ, (not Mo- 
ravians, but German Methodists,) date back 
to 1760, when Otterbein and Bochm com- 
menced their missionary labors ; but their 
pi'incipal development has taken place during 
the present century. 

The Mormons organized their first com- 
munity or church in 1831, though the pro- 
fessed revelations of Joseph Smith date some 
years earlier. Various methods of classifi- 
cation of religious and irreligious societies 
have been attempted, but all of them are 
liable to some objection. The most com- 
mon classification is that of Roman Catholics, 
Protestants, Infidels or Unbelievers in Chris- 
tianity, and Pagans. This answers well 
enough for a generic division, but when we 
come to a minute classification we find a 
difficulty. The Roman Catholics, though 
divided into several orders or societies which 
are more or less hostile to each other, such 
as Jesuits, Dominicans, Franciscans, Bene- 
dictines, Paulists, Lazarists, etc., have yet 
this common bond of union that they all ac- 
knowledge allegiance to the Pope, while 
Protestants, however we may classify them, 
will hardly come under any strict rule of 
division. One classification is into Trinita- 
rians and Anti-Trinitarians ; but to this it 
may be objected that neither party are whol- 
ly Pi'otestant, the Roman Catholics being 
Trinitarians as well as most of the Protest- 
ants, and a part of the Baptists, and a por- 



tion of the Anglican churches, denying that 
they are Protestants, as do likewise some of 
the Anti-Trinitarians. This division is liable 
to the further objection that it arrays a very 
large body of religionists on one side against 
a comparative handful on the other. 

The division into Orthodox and Heterodox, 
is liable to the objection that there is no uni- 
versally recognized standard of Orthodoxy, 
and to call a man Heterodox because his 
belief on all points was not the same with 
that of some other man would be invidious. 
The division into Evangelical and Unevan- 
gehcal is equally objectionable on the ground 
of its indefiniteness, with the added difficulty 
that it would divide two denominations, the 
Anglican churches and the Unitarians, a 
part of each claiming and receiving the title 
of Evangelical, and the other part rejecting 
it. The division of the denominations into 
Calvinists and Arminians is perhaps as fair 
as any, though several denominations have 
both classes in their membership. That into 
Baptists and Paedobaptists is faulty because, 
though no Baptist, i. e. Immersionist, is a 
Paedobaptist, that is, an advocate for the bap- 
tism of mfants, yet many Paedobaptists 
occasionally practice immersion, as for exam- 
ple, the Methodists, the Congregationahsts, 
and the Episcopalians. It is liable to another 
difficulty, viz., that some of the organizations 
not reputed Christian, such as the Mormons, 
practice immersion. 

In the attempted subdivision of the Infidel 
or unbelieving class, we are met with still 
greater difficulties. The Deist, especially, if 
an Israelite, and a believer in the Old Tes- 
tament scriptures, will object strenuously to 
be ranked with the sceptic whose only God 
is nature, and whose highest hope for the 
future is in annihilation, or with the Comtist 
who recognizes no divinity of greater knowl- 
edge or power than himself, or the Atheist, 
who believes that all things are the result of 
chance. Between these extremes there are 
an infinitude of opinions, no two of which 
can be reconciled with each other, even to 
the extent of a common classification. Of 
Paganism there are but comparatively few 
representatives — the Indian tribes in the 
West, the Chinese, who seem to be in about 
equal proportions, Buddhists, Sintuists, and 
followers of Confucius, the Alaskan Indians, 
and Esquimaux, whose religion seems akin 
to Shamanism, the small colonies of Japanese, 
(Buddhists) and the traces of Fetictism found 



RELIGIOUS DENOMINATIONS. 



495 



in the more ignorant and supertitious of the 
.Southern ju'groes. 

The following table exhibits as accurately 
as they can be obtained from official and 
other sources, the statistics of the various 
religious and irreligious sects in the United 
States, as reported at or near the close of 



1870. The denominations have been taken 
generally in the order of their membership ; 
but the smaller churches which alUliate with 
the larger ones in their doctrines and ordi- 
nances, have been considered in the samo 
connection, in preference to a rigid classifica- 
tion on the basis of number of members. 



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CHAPTEE II. 

mSTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



I. ROMAN CATHOLICS. Theadher- 
ents of the Roman Church in the United States 
were, as we have ah-eady seen, just before 
the American Revokxtion, except in Mary- 
land, but a very small proportion of the i^op- 
ulation. They had small congregations in 
New York, Philadelphia, and perhaps, two 
or three other large towns. In Baltimore, 
they were the leading denomination, and in 
several towns of Maryland they had congre- 
gations. In sections which soon after came 
into the Union as states or organized terri- 
tories, their congregations were scattered 
somewhat widely. In North Eastern Maine, 
the Arcadian settlers, mostly French or of 
French extraction, were generally devout 
Catholics ; and a few priests with their flocks 
were found along the northern line of New 
England and New York. Detroit had a 
very considerable Catholic element in its 
population from the first ; and farther west, 
at several points in Illinois, Wisconsin, Iowa, 
and especially in Missouri and below in the 
Mississippi Valley, among the French and 
Creole population of Louisiana Territory, 
churches and cathedrals were comparatively 
numerous. Farther west, in Texas and 
California, as well as in Mexico, New Mex- 
ico, and Arizona, all at this time under the 
control of Spain, and subsequently of the 
Mexican Republic, Catholicism had been for 
two centuries the established religion of the 
state, and Indians, Mexicans, .and Spaniards 
of the pure blood were alike, nominally at 
least, enrolled among its numbers. The 
missions, churches and cathedrals, many of 
them in ruins, which dot the prairies and 
oases of the vast territory acquired by the 
war of 184G, show that in former times, a 
very considerable, though mainly a native 
population was subservient to this faith. It 
was not, however, till after 1820, when the 
vast tide of immigration from Ireland and 
from Catholic Germany, with its occasional 
additions from France, Italy, and Spain, 



began to flow in upon us, that the Roman 
Catholic church assumed anything like its 
present proportional magnitude. Its out- 
posts were indeed already jilanted, and it 
had its centers of influence, its nuclei around 
which it could gather its incoming hosts. 
But prior to 1820, it probably ranked in the 
number of its communicants not higher than 
fourth or fifth among the religious denomi- 
nations of the country. It is stated on good 
authority (that of a Roman Catholic arch- 
bishop), that more than five millions of Cath- 
olic emigrants have landed upon our shores 
since 1820. Of course many of them have 
apostatized ; many more have died, and their 
children have been reared in other faiths, or 
in no faith at all. In these ways only can 
we account for the fact attested by the high- 
est Roman Catholic authority, that their 
communicants do not to-day number over 
3,500,000. Their clergy have not been want- 
ing in zeal or fidelity to their faith ; and no 
denomination in the country has provided so 
well or so promptly for the maintenance of 
religious worship as they. They have not 
been persecuted for their faith, or their num- 
bers would be larger; but there has been 
on the part of immigrants a strong disposi- 
tion, on coming to this country, to throw off 
all religious restraints under the impression 
that this was one of the requisites of national 
freedom. 

With this brief sketch of its history, we 
proceed to give the leading doctrines of the 
Roman Catholic Church, stating them in 
this case, as we shall in that of all the other 
denominations, m the exact language of their 
own ablest and most representative writers, 
as the only course which will render strict jus- 
tice to each denomination. The late Arch- 
bishop Kenrick of Baltimore,one of the ablest 
writers and most accomjilished scholars of 
the Roman Church, thus states its doctrines : 
" The chief doctrines of the Church regard 
the unity of the divine nature in three dis- 
(496) 



HISTOKY AND PUOGRESS OF TUE DIFFEUKNT DENOMINATIONS. 



497 



titict divine persons, and the incarnation of 
the second divine person, through the mys- 
terious operations of the Holy Spirit in the 
Virgin Mary, and his death on the cross for 
the expiation uf the sins of mankind. The 
belief of the incarnation is the ground and 
motive of ihv high veneration which is enter- 
tained for the Virgin, who is styled Mother of 
God, because Christ her son is God incarn- 
ate." (Since the death of Ab'p Kenrick, the 
dogma of the lininaciilate Conception of the 
Virgin Mary, regarding her as born as free 
from sin as Christ himself, has been pro- 
claimed by the I'ope as a fundamental doc- 
trine of the church.) "To her is ascribed 
all sanctity and perfection which can be 
bestowed on a mere creature, and she is held 
to have been free from all stain of sin by a 
special privilege granted her, that she might 
be worthy of the dignity for which she was 
divinely chosen. The mystery of the re- 
demption is prominent in the teaching and 
worship of die church. Christ suffered and 
died, as man, to atone for the sins of our first 
parents, and the sins of all mankind. His 
death fidly expiated tlie guilt of sin, and 
presented an atonement in every respect per- 
fect. Yet all men are not justified and 
saved, but tliose only to whom the redemp- 
tion is applied by means divinely prescribed, 
liuptism is believed to be a remedy for orig- 
inal sin, applicable even to infants. Adults 
having the use of reason must believe in 
Christ and repent of sin, in order to receive 
the benefit of the atonement. From those 
who have forfeited baptismal grace, fruits of 
penance are recpiired as evidences of their 
sincere conversion to Goc!, and as conditions 
to entitle them to the application of the mer- 
its of Christ. Nothing tliat man can do, can 
take away the guilt of sin, or prove an ade- 
(juate satisfactiun for it; but God requires 
the hninil.ation of the sinner, and accepts his 
penitential works, which derive vjdue from 
the ranoin offered by Christ. They add 
nothing to it, bui they become acceptable 
through it. Christ is tne spiritual Mediator 
through whose l)lood we must sue for par- 
don and salvation. The worship of the 
church is given to God only — the one Eter- 
nal Being in the three divine persons — and 
the incarnate Word, God consubstantial to 
the Father. Infrior religious honor, which 
may be called worship) in a (pialified sense, 
is given to the Virgin Mary, on account of 
the gifts and graces with which God has 
endowed her, and her exalted dignity as 
30* 



Mother of God incarnate. The angels, 
namely, incorporeal spirits reigning with 
God, are honored as his creatures, in whom 
his perfections are retieeted, and his messen- 
gers through whom he has manifested his 
will. Saints, those who have pioved faith- 
ful in the divine service to the end, and are 
already crowned with glory in the kingdom 
of God, are venerated likewise for their tri- 
nmj)hant virtue ; the martyrs especially, who 
died amid torments rather than deny Christ, 
and the virgins, who throuiihoiit life pre- 
served the purity of their affections, are 
deemed worthy of high honor. But there is 
an essential difference between the honor 
given to the creatures of God, and that 
which belongs to God alone. He receives 
the submission of the understanding and the 
will, the homage of the affections. He is 
acknowledged to be the essential Being, the 
supreme Lord, the beginning and the end of 
all things. Sacrifice is given to him only. 
Prayer, in its strict acce|)tation, can be offer- 
ed to him only, the Giver of every good gift. 
Grace and salvation depend upon his bounty 
and mercy. Litanies and prajers to tlie 
saints are only appeals to them to intercede 
with God for us through Jesus Christ. They 
are not supposed to be omniscient or omni- 
present ; but they know, in God, the pious 
desires as well as the penitential sighs of the 
faithful. Respect is paid to the ciiicifix, 
which recalls to our mind the sufferings of 
Christ for our redemption, but it does not ter- 
minate in the symbol or material object. The 
kissing of the image, the bending of the knee, 
the prostration of the body in tlie ceremonial of 
Good Friday, are all directed to Christ, our 
Redeemer. So the images of the saints 
awake the remembrance of their virtues. 
The bowing of the head to a statue, or the 
burning of incense before a shrine, is refer- 
red to the saint whose memory is honored 
for his love of God and his zeal for the 
divine glory. Relics, that is objects used by 
the saints, or particles of their remains, arc 
venerated for the relation they bear to them. 
The fall of the first parents of the human 
race is the fundamental doctrine on which ;he 
belief of the mystery of redemption depends. 
. . . . Original sin is that transgression 
which is common to the whole human fam- 
ily, each one being estrangtid from God, and 
liable to his wrath, hi conseijuence of the act 
of the heads of the race. 1 he natural pow- 
ers have been weakened by the fall. Tlie 
freedom of the human will remains, but it is 



498 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



less vigorous tlian in our first parents. Our 
nature is not vitiated and dependent, but it 
is prone to evil and exposed to violent temp- 
tation A Redeemer was <iiven 

VIS, in the person of Christ, who, being God- 
man, atoned by his sufferings for the sin of 
our first parents, and merited for us all grace 
by which tem[)tation may be overcome. 
Actual sin is the willful transgression of the 
divine law by individuals having the use of 
reason. Mortal sin is any act, speech, desire, 
or thought grievously opposed to the natural 
or divine law. Sins which imply no direct 
)r grievous op|)Osition to the law of God, are 
tyled venial, because their pardon is easily 
obtained, since they do not separate the soul 
from God. Slight impatience, rash words, 
vain self-complacency, may be venial. De- 
liberate hatred, gross calumny, acts of vio- 
lence, not to speak of druidvcnness, lust, and 
murder, are mortal sins. The distinction of 
sins is not derived from the individual who 
commits^ them, although they may be aggia- 
vated by his pijrsonal obligations. Forgive- 
ness of sins, even the most heinous, is prom- 
ised to the penitent. Sorrow for having com- 
mitted them is a necessary disjiosition in order 
to obtain it. Perfect sorrow, which is called 
contrition, springs from divine love, and 
leads us to detest sin as opposed to the good- 
ness of God and to his eternal perfection. 
Attrition, is sorrow of a less perfect kind, 
arising from an exjjcrience of the evil conse- 
quences of sin, and the dread of the punish- 
ments which await it hereafter. If it wean 
the heart from sin, and inspire an effectual 
detestation of it, so as to be accompanied 
with a firm resolution of amendment, it is 
held to be useful and salutary, and such as 
may dispose for pardon in the sacrament of 

penance Tin; forgiveness of 

sin properly belongs to God, who is oli'ended. 
Christ, as God-man, forgave sin, and author- 
ized the apostles to impart forgiveness or 
withliold it. The power is judicial, since 
they may bind or loose, retain or forgive ; 
on which account a confession of sin is re- 
quired from every applicant for its exercise. 
"When this is made with sincerity, humility, 
sorrow, a willingness to repair the wrung 
connuitted, and a determination to shun the 
occasions of sin, the priest a])solves the pen- 
itent. This absolution is a judicial sentence, 
deriving its force from the divine institution. 
The saci'aments (seven in number) are rites 
instituted by Christ our Lord, as instru- 
ments and means of grace to apply to our 



souls the merits of his sufferings and death. 
They are said to contain and confer grace, 
technically ex opcre (yperato, because they are 
effectual means divinely chosen to impart it, 
where no obstacle is presented by the re- 
ceiver. Certain dispositions, however, are 
required on the part of adults who desire to 
partake of them. Faith and compunction 
are necessary on the i)art of the applicant 
for baptism. Sorrow, with a firm purpose of 
amendment, is required from the professed 
penitent, in the sacrament of penance. The 
strengthening grace of the Holy Spirit is 
granted, by the laying on of hands with 
prayer, to the baptized believer, whose heart 
is free from willful sin. Sin is forgiven to 
the dying man who with penitence and hope 
receives the mystic unction, and for whom 
the prayer of faith is offered up. The impo- 
sition of hands is available for the communi- 
cation of sacerdotal power, even to the 
unworthy candidate, but grace is given to 
him who is called by God, and who with 
humility corresponds to the divine vocation. 
Marriage is a great mystery,- the image of 
the union of Christ and the Chm'ch, to be 
celebrated wfth purity ot affection. TTie 
Eucharist, the chief sacrament, is to be ap- 
proached with hearts cleansed from sin, 
imder penalty of becoming guilty of the body 
and blood of the Lord, and incurring con- 
demnation 

It is not easy to reconcile the exercise of 
free will with the divine foresight. We can- 
not understand how it is possible for us to 
act independently, and of our own determin- 
ation, when God has foreseen our action. 
It is sufficient to know and feel our freedom, 
without sounding the depths of divine knowl- 
edge. It suffices then to admit that without 
the grace of Christ we can do nothing, and 
to hold that we can do all things in Him 
who strengthens us. Everlasting beatitude, 
consisting in the contemplation and enjoy- 
ment of God, is the reward promised by 
Him on condition of the fulfilment of His 
connnandments, and bestowed graluitously on 
baptized infants or others incapable of per- 
sonal acts. The punishment of grievous sin 
is eternal. Im{)enitent sinners are forever 
separated from God, and sufi'er torments. 
Those who die guilty of sliglit faults or debt- 
ors to divine justice, are witlilield for a time 
from the enjoyment of Heaven (and suffer 
the pains of purgatory). The glory of 
heaven is immediately attained by baptized 
infants dying before the use of reason, by 



HISTORY AND PROGRKSS OP THE DIFFERKNT DENOMINATIONS. 



409 



adults dying imniodiatt'ly after baptism, by 
martyrs, and ]»y all who die with perfect 
love of Go<l, and free from sin or debt of 
jMiiiishnient. Tlie soul oidy is admitted to 
happiness. The body is sultject to dissolu- 
tion, but is to be raised at the end of time, 
in order to be reunited to the soul, and made 
partaker of her glory. 

Tlie teaching of Christ our Lord, becomes 
known to us especially l\v the preaching of 
the ministry, tracing l)ack their commission 
to the apostles. Solemn definitions of faith 
are the most authoritative^ forms of this 
preaching. They are declarations not mere- 
ly of doctrines contained in the written 
word, but of revealed truths, whether writ- 
ten or unwritten. Christ himself left noth- 
ing in writing; several of his aposiles wrote 
much, and two other sacred writers com- 
posed narratives of his life and teaching; 
but many things belong to the deposit of doc- 
trine whicii were not cxplicifly placed on 
record. The body of bishops feel themselves 
authorized to projiose as revealed truth 
whatever has come down from the bej]rinnin<; 
in the church, and been generally acknowl- 
edged to appertain to doctrine. In cases of 
difficulty, wlien sloubts have been raised with 
regard to some tenet, they feel themselves 
competent to examine the evidence, and 
decide whether the doctrine has been re- 
vealed. After a definition, it is no longer 
allowed to question a truth sealed with their 
approval. l!ifal!il)ility in judgment is claim- 
ed for the body of bisliops with their head, 
the bishop (pope) of Rome. (The infallibil- 
ity of the pope was declared one of the car- 
dinal doctrines of the Roman Catholic 
Ciiurch liy the Council of Home in 1870 — 
71.) \'>y tlie infallibility in judgment of the 
bishops, is meant the providential guidance 
of the Holy Spirit, by whicli they are direc- 
ted and enlightened in doctrinal decisions, 
that they may not mistake error for truth or 
propose as divinely revealed what wants the 
seal of divine authority. The tribunal of 
the pope is universally acknowlcMlged (in the 
Roman Catholic church) as competent to 
pronounce jutlgment in controversies which 
regard faith, and its decrees, directed to the 
body of bishops or to the church at large, 
proposing doctrines under penalty of excom- 
munication, when acquiesced in by the bish- 
ops, are final and irreversible. 

The Church accepts the Divine Scriptures 
is the word of inspiration, written under the 
impulse of the Spirit of God, and to be re- ; 



ceived with all faith and veneration. To 
the books of the Old Testament, according 
to the Jewish Canon, she adds certain other 
books (usually known as the Apocrypha) on 
ancient testimony, usage, and tradition de 
rived from the apostles. The books of the 
New Testament included in the Canon, arr^ 
those adopted as inspired by the Council of 
Trent. The Church claims the supreme 
authority of determining the meaning of the 
Scriptures, in conformity with the general 
teaching of the fathers, that is, the ancient 
Christian Avriters. Faith, according to the 
Roman Catholic view, is the assent of the 
human mind to divine truth as it is proposed 
and attested by the church of God. The 
truth must be revealed, and it must be pro- 
pounded by the church. Faith is necessary 
to salvation, so that without it, it is impossi- 
ble to please God. The wanton and proud 
rejection of a single point of revealed doc- 
trine involves shipwreck of faith. Hence, 
the plea of invincible ignon'ii'e is the only 
one which Roman Catholic divines admit as 
of any avail in behalf of those who rejei^t 
any of the doctrines which the Church has 
j)roponnded as revealed, and only God can 
determine with certainty the individu;il for 
whom such j)lea may be available. All bap- 
tized children are claimed by the cinirch as 
her own, since baptism is the sacrati cut of 
regeneration, and they continue such until 
l)y their willful profession of coiuh mned 
error they forfeit t\um- birthright. The prin- 
ciples of the Catholic Church with regard to 
civil duties, are highly conservative. She 
feels bound to respect established authority, 
and enforce, by moral suasion, obedience to 
those in high station, and she u.ses every fit 
occasion to insinuate the axiom, that religion 
is the only sure ba.-is and strong bond of secur- 
ity. The duties of her rnend)ers are depen- 
dent on the providential position in which 
they find themselves. They are to support 
law and order, and fuliil faithfully every 
oblitration to society. 

By disrijilinc, Catholics understand all 
that appertains to the government of the 
Church, th(! administration of the sacraments 
and the observance and j)ractice of religion. 
The essential worsltip consists in the sacri- 
fice of the ma-^s, winch, although mystical 
and commemorative, is real and ])ropitiatory, 
being a continuation of the sa(;ri(ice of the 
cross. Vespers, or evening j)rayers, are sol- 
emnly sung, th<* psalms of David, the song 
of the Virgin Mary, and pious hymns and 



500 



niSTOUY AND Pi;OGKES3 OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



prayers being used. In the cathedral 
churches, other portions of the divine office 
are sung at various hours of each day, by 
clergymen, called canons, devoted to this 
duty. Numerous festivals are also cele- 
brated to honor the divine mysteries and 
present them to the devout contemplation of 
the faithful. Many are solemnized in honor 
of the Virgin Mary, the apostles, martyrs, 
confessors, virgins, and saints of every class, 
whose virtues are thus set before the faith- 
ful for their imitation. Fasting is also a 
part of church discipline. Forty days before 
Easter (the Lenten Fast) are devoted to 
this exercise. Ember days, viz., Wednes- 
day, Friday, and Saturday, in each of the 
four seasons, are observed as fasts to obtain 
the divine blessing, and worthy ministers for 
the church, ordinations being held at those 
times. The eve of great solemnities is 
observed by fasting, in order to prepare by 
penance for their celebration. Abstinence 
(from meat) is observed on each Friday of the 
year, and in some dioceses, on Saturday also. 
All these penitential observances are mat- 
ters of church law, which admits of dispen- 
sation. The rites of the mass, and the cere- 
monies used in the administration of the sac- 
raments, appertain to discipline, which ad- 
mits of variety and chang", although great 
deference is shown for ancient usage. For 
this reason, the Latin liturgy, used from 
early times in the Roman cliurch, is still 
employed by the celebrant, although instruc- 
tions are given in the vernacular language, 
and facilities are offered to the faithful for 
praying in a manner suited to their capacity. 
The changes which have been made are in 
the manner of administering baptism, and 
the Eucharist, and peniti-ntial discipline. 
The solemn mode of baptism was originally 
by immersion. The candidate used to 
descend into fonts, or streams, or rivers, and 
sink beneath the waters under the pressure 
of the hands of the sacred minister. In cases 
of necessity and danger, h-ss solemn modes 
were used, which, from being frequent at 
length, after the lapse of ages, became uni 
versal. In like manner, the Eucharist, hav- 
ing been instituted by our Lord under the 
forms of bread and wine, was generally ad 
ministered under both kinds for many a<^es. 
Exceptional cases were always admitted, 
wiiich at length proved so numerous as to 
supersede altogether the ancient usage. The 
church claims the right to regulate, at her 
just discretion, whatever regardd the manner 



of administering the sacraments, while she 
holds their substance to be inviolable. The 
change in regard to penance, has reference 
mainly to the issue of mdulgences, i. e. par- 
dons for offences justly liable to penitential 
discipline. These, which were generally 
plenary, were not directed to the forgiveness 
of sin which needed the sacramental remedy, 
but to the remission of the temporal punish- 
ment, which was often exacted by divme jus- 
tice from those whose sins had been par- 
doned. They served as incentives to works 
of piety, such as almsgiving, fasting, and 
prayers. 

The organization of the church consists in 
its government by bishops, each in charge of 
a special flock, with subordination one to 
another, and the dependence of all on the 
bishop of Rome (the pope), as shepherd of 
the whole fold of Christ. The Episcopal 
character is the same in all bishops, but gov- 
erning authority, which is called jurisdiction, 
is possessed in various degrees — in its ful- 
ness, by the pope, who is the fountain, the 
streams of which flow to all others. He 
alone has apostolic authority, wliich may be 
everywhere exercised, with due regard to 
the local prelate, and which is suited to every 
emergency. Next to him, in governing 
authority, are the cardinals, in whom, during 
the vacancy of the Roman see, this plenitude 
of jurisdiction is believed to reside. Each 
bishop governs his own diocese, not as papal 
vicar, but as ordinary or proper ruler, al- 
though in some things his authority is en- 
larged as delegate apostolic. Several dio- 
ceses form a province which is governed by 
an archbishop. Many ecclesiastical provin- 
ces are sometimes united as a nation, under 
a primate who ranks above other prelates. 
The vicar apostolic is, in some sense, a mis- 
sionary bishop. The general government of 
the church is carried on at Rome, where the 
pope is assisted by the body of cardinals, 
several of whom compose standing commit- 
tees to examine and pref)are the matters for 
final action. Nearly thirty belong to the 
College of Propaganda, which is charged 
with a general superintendence of missionary 
countries. The appointment of bishops is 
made on the recommendation of the local 
prelates, with the advice of the cardinals. 

The religious orders in the church are 
like corjiorations in a civil government, hav- 
ing special exemptions, and privileges to 
enable them successfully to pursue the objects 
of their respective institutes. They derive 




mMmm^^^mM'^' • Mm^s s^-^ 



HISTORY AND PROGUK5S OF THE DFFF.UENT DEXOMINATIONS. 



501 



these from the pope, who, in virtue of his 
apostolical authority, exempts the members 
from the jurisdiction of the bishops in what 
regards their domestic discipline, but leaves 
them dependent on them for facidties to be 
exercised in behalf of the faithful. The 
older religious orders of Euro[)e all have 
their houses here; the Benedictines, Domin- 
i(!ans, Franciscans, Carmelites, Augu-tini- 
aris, Lazari ts, and the followers of Loyola, 
or, as they are often called, Jesuits. A new 
religious order, that of St. Paid the apostle, 
or as they are usually called, Pauli-ts, was 
founded a few years since in New York, and 
has been very ellicient in missionary labors. 
There are also teaching orders, like the 
Brothers of the Christian Schools, and diar- 
itable orders of both sexes, like the Sisters 
of Charity, Brothers and Sisters of the Sa- 
cred Heart of ,Iesus, Sisters of Mercy, Little 
Sisters of the Poor, &c., &c. These charit- 
able orders h ive effected much good in the 
tbunding and management of schools, in vis- 
iting the sick and prisoners, in managing 
hosi)itals, reformatories, &c. Of late year>, 
the Roman Catholics have not only largely 
increased their colleges, but have multiplied 
their schools, claiming that their children 
should be instructed in religious as well as in 
secular knowledge. They have also estab- 
lished many orphan asylums, reformatories, 
and Magdalen asylums. 



II. B.VPTISTS. 

I. Regular Baptists. The Baptist 
churches of the United States rank among 
the mo<t numerous and influential of the 
evangelical re igious denominations in the 
country, and wliile generally either moderate 
or strict, (but not high.) Calvinists in the'r 
theology, and strictly congregational in their 
church govt-rnment. are di-tinguished from 
other denominations holding to (Jalvinistic 
dr)ctrine-; and a congregaticmal jmlity, by their 
A-iews on the mode and subjects of baptism. 
They hold that iiinnersion is the only true 
mode of baptism, and a personal profession 
of faitli in Cln-ist the necessary prerequisite 
for every subject of that ordinance. 

It is usually stated tiiat Roger Williams, 
the founder of the colony of Rhode Island, 
was also the founder of the Baptist dimomi- 
nation in the United Stat-s. The statement 
is but partially true. Four years before 
Williams's baptism, in 1635, Hansard Kuol- 



lys, an English or rather Welsh. Baptis^ 
preacher, had emigrated to New England 
with a portion of his flock and settled as a 
pastor at Dover, New Hampshire, and though 
he afterward returruid to England, lii~ cinirch 
remained. Baptist sentiments were propa- 
gated in die Rliode L-^land colony, but much 
more by John Clarke, a friend and associate 
of Williams, than by Williams himself; in- 
deed, the latter, whose memory is de.-erving 
of all honor for his noble defence and main- 
tenance of complete liberty of conscience, 
held certain views in the latter part of his 
life, which caused him to stand aloof, so far 
as communion went, from the Baptist as well 
as from other churches. There were, how- 
ever, a considerable number of Baptists who 
emigrated from England, Holland, and Ger- 
many withn the next hundred and thirty 
years, and Baptist churches existed in most 
of the thirteen colonies at the commencement 
of the Revolution ; yet their membership 
was small. Li 17G2 there were but 56 
(churches with less than 6,000 members in 
the denomination. In 1776 they reckoned 
nearly 150 churches with a membership of 
al)out 13,000. From the time of the revo- 
lution, their gi-owth was very rapid, exceeded 
only by that of the Methodist churches. 

Every church among the Ba|)tists is com- 
pletely independent of every other a' id fully 
competent to establish its own doctrinal 
views, its own course of polity and discipline, 
and to elect, license, and ordain its own offi- 
cers whether they are deacons, licensed 
preachers, ordained ministers or pastors. The 
Baptists acknowledge no church courts, no 
hierarchy, presbytery, synod, directory, 
classis, general assembly, annual or general 
conference, dean or bishop as having any 
power over the individual churcli, which they 
regard as the Ihial arbiter in all matters of 
di:>cipline, polity, and doctrine. In these 
matters they are the most absolutely pure 
and simple congregationalists, the com|)letest 
democracy in the world. They have, it is 
true, their associations and conventions, and 
their church councils, but these are only for 
devotional, charitable, and advisory purposes ; 
they ))Ossess no disciplinary powers. It fol- 
lows as a nece-sary corollary from this, that 
though all the B.ijjti-t churches ackno« ledge 
and receive, "the Scriptui-es of the OM and 
New Testaments as their only and ali suffi- 
cient rule of f nth and practice" they have 
no articles of faith or cree 1 which arc univer- 
sally received. Many of the oldest and 



502 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



most influential churches have never had 
articles of" faith. Where they are used, each 
church prepares its own or adopts one al- 
ready prepared as it {ileases, yet most of 
them agree in the principal points of doctrine. 
Tiie Keirular Bapti-ts are in general Mode- 
rate C'alvinists, accepting " for substance of 
doctrine" the view of the general sufficiency 
but particular application ut the Atonement 
enunciated by Rev. Andre 'v Fuller, in his 
theological works. A confession of faith, 
embodying these doctrines and known as the 
New ILunpshire Confession of Faith, was 
prepared more than forty years ago and has 
j)erliaps been adopted by moie churches 
than any other ; yet while it represents f lirly 
tlie views of the great body of regular Bap 
tists, it cannot be considered an authoritative 
document. We give below the articles of 
this confession. 

I. Of th" Scriptures. We believe that 
the Holy Bible was written by men divinely 
inspired, and is a perfect treasure of heav- 
enly in truction, that it has God for it- au- 
thor, salvation for its end, and truth without 
any mixture of error for its matter ; that it 
reveals the principles by which God will 
judge us ; and therefore is, and shall remain 
to the end of the world, the true centre of 
Christian union, and the supreme standard 
by which all human conduct, creeds, and opin 
ions should be tried. 

I[. Of the True God. We believe that 
there is one, and only one, living and true 
God, an inhnite, intellig<"nt Spirit, whose 
name is Jehovah, the Maker and Supreme 
Ruler of Heaven and F^artli ; inexpressibly 
glorious in holiness, and worthy of all possi- 
ble honor, confidence, and love ; that in the 
unity of the Godhead there are three per- 
sons, the Father, the Son, and tiie Holy 
Ghost; equal in every divine perfection, and 
exeruting distinct but harmonious offices in 
tlie great work of redem[ttion. 

III. Of the Fall of Mm. We believe 
that Man was created in holiness, under the 
law cf liis Maker; but by voluntary irans- 
gres-ion fell from that holy and happy state ; 
in consequence of which all mankind are 
now sinners, not by constraint but choice, 
being by nature utterly void of that holiness 
required by the law of God, positively in- 
clined to evil ; and therefore under just con- 
demnation to eternal ruin, without defence 
or excuse. 

IV. Of the Way of Salvation. We be- 
lieve that the salvation of sinners is wholly 



of grace ; through the Mediatorial offices of 
the Son of God ; who by the appointment ol 
the Father, freely took upon Him our na^ 
ture, yet without sin ; honored the Divine 
law by his personal obedience, and by his 
death made a full atonement for our sins ; 
that having risen from the dead, He is now 
enthroned in Heaven, and uniting in His 
wonderful person the tendercst sympathies 
with divine perfections. He is every way 
qualified to be a suitable, a compassionate, 
and an all-sufficient Saviour. 

V. Of Jas'ification. We believe that 
the great Gospel blessing which Christ se- 
cures to such as believe in Him is Justifica- 
tion , that Justification includes the pardon 
of sin, and the promise of eternal life on 
princi|)les of righteousness ; that it is be- 
stowed, not in consideration of any works 
of righteousness which we have done, but 
solely through faith in the Redeemer's blood, 
by virtue of which faith His perfect right- 
eousness is freely imputed to us of God, that 
it brings us into a state of most blessed 
peace and favor with God, and secures every 
other blessing needful for time and eternity. 

VI. Of the Freeness of Salvation. We 
believe that the blessings of salvation are 
made free to all by the Gospel ; that it is the 
immediate duty of all to accept tliem by a 
cordial, peniient, and obedient faith ; and that 
nothing prevents the salvation of the great- 
est sinner on earth, but his own inl.erent 
depravity and voluntary rejection of the 
Gospel, which rejection involves him in an 
aggravated condemnation. 

VII. Of Grace in Regeneration. We 
believe that in order to be saved, sinners 
must be regenerated, or born again, that re- 
generation consists in giving a holy disposi- 
tion to the mind ; that it is effected in a man- 
ner above our comprehension by the power 
of the Holy Spirit, in connection with Divine 
truth, so as to secure our voluntary obedience 
to the Gospel ; and that its proper evidence 
appears in the holy fruits of repentance, and 
faith, and newness of life. 

VIII. Of Repentance and Faith. We 
believe that Repentance and P'aith are sa- 
cred duties, and also inseparable graces, 
wrought in our souls by the regenerating 
Spirit of God, whereby being deeply con- 
vinced of our guilt, danger, and helplessness, 
and of the way of salvation by C hrist, we 
turn to God with unfeigned contrition, con- 
fession, and supplication for mercy ; at the 
same time iieartily receiving the Lord Jesus 



HISTOUY AND PROGRESS OP THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



503 



Chri>t as our Propliet, Priest, and King, and 
relying on Him alone as the only and all- 
sulficient Saviour. 

IX. Of Goers Purpose of Grace. "VVe 
believe that Election is the eternal purpose 
of God, according to which He graciously 
regenerates, sanctities, and saves siiniers ; 
that being perfectly consistent with the Iree 
agency of man. it com[)rehends all the means 
in connection with tiie end ; that it is a most 
glorious disi)lay of God's sovereign goodness, 
being infinitely free, wise, holy, and unchange- 
able ; that it utterly excludes boasting, and 
promotes humility, love, prayer, praise, trust 
in God, and active imitation of his free mer- 
cy, that it encourages the use of means in 
the highest degree ; that it may be a-cer 
tained by its effects in all who truly believe 
the Gospel ; that it is the foundation of 
Christian assurance, and that to ascertain it 
with regard to ourselves demands and de- 
serves the utmost diligence. 

X. Of Sanctificution. We believe that 
Sanctifi cation is the process l)y which, accord- 
ing to the will of God, we are made partak- 
ers of his holiness ; that it is a progressive 
work ; that it is begun in regeneration ; and 
that it is carried on in the hearts of believers 
by the pre-en^e and power of the Holy 
Spirit, the fciealer and Comforter, in the con- 
tinual use of the appointed means — espe- 
cially, the word of God, self-examination, 
self-denial, watchfulness, and prayer. 

XI. Of the Perseverance of Samfs. We 
believe that such only are real believers as 
endure unto the end ; that their persevering 
attachment to Christ is the grand mark which 
distinguishes them from superficial professors ; 
that a special Providence watches over their 
welfare ; and they are kept by the power of 
God through fiiith unto salvation. 

XII. Of the Harmony of the Law and 
Gospel. We believe that the Law of God 
is the eternal and unchange tb!e rule of His 
moral government ; that it is holy, just, and 
good ; and that the inability which the Scrip- 
tures ascribe to fallen men to fulfil its pre- 
cepts, arises entirely froin their love of sin ; 
to deliver th'^m from which, and to restore 
them through a Mediator to unfeigned obedi- 
ence to the holy Law, is one gieat end of the 
Gospel, and of tjie M -ans of Grace connected 
with the establnhment of the visible church. 

XIII. Of a Gospel Church. We believe 
that a visible chnrcli of Christ i> a congrega- 
tion of baptized believers, asso-iated by cov- 
enant in the faith and fellowship of the Gos- 



pel ; observing the ordinances of Christ ; 
governed by his lavv> ; and exercising the 
gifts, rights, and priviU'ges invested in them 
by His word; that its only scriptural officers 
are Hishops or Pators, and Deacons, whose 
(jualifications, claims, and duties are defined 
in the Epistles to Timothy and Titus. 

XIV. Of Baptism and the Lord's Sup- 
per. We believe that Cliristian Baptism is 
the immersion in water of a believer, into 
the name of the Father, and Son, and Holy 
Ghost ; to show forth in a solemn and beau- 
tiful emblem, our faith in the crucified, 
buried, and risen Saviour, with its effect, in 
our death to sin and resurrection to a new 
life ; that it is pre-requisite to the privileges 
of a church relation ; and to the Lord's Sup- 
per, in which the members of the church by 
the sacred use ot bread and wine, are to 
commemorate together the dying lo\e of 
Christ ; preceded always by solemn self-ex- 
aminaton. 

XV. Of the Christian Sabbath. We be- 
lieve that the first day of the week is the 
Lord's Day, or Christian Sabbath ; and is to 
be kept sacred to religii^us purposes, by ab- 
staining from all secular labur and sinful 
recreations, by the devout observance of all 
the means of grace, both private and public, 
and by preparation for that rest that remain- 
eth for the people of God. 

XVI. Of Civil Governtnent. We be- 
lieve that Civil Government is of Divine 
appointment, for the interests and good order 
of human society ; and that magistrates are 
to be prayed for, conscientiously honored, 
and obeyed ; except only in things opposed 
to the will of our Lord Jesus Christ, who is 
the only Lord of the conscience, and the 
Prince of the kings of the earth. 

XVII. Of the Righteous and the Wicked. 
We believe that there is a radical and essen- 
tial difference between the righteous and the 
wicked ; that such only as through faith are 
justified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and 
sanetified by the Spirit ot onr God. are truly 
righteous in His esteem ; while all sueh as 
continue in impenitence antl unbelief are in 
His sicrht wicked, and under the cm-se ; and 
this distinction holds among men both in and 
after death. 

It is usual also in Baptist churches to 
have a Church Covenant, to which the mem- 
bers, when received, give their assent, as it 
is read by th(^ pastor. This covenant pledges 
them to the duties of the Christian life, to 
the observance of the worship, ordinances, 



504 



HISTOUY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



discipline, and doctrines of the "church, and 
to a strict avoidance of all temptations to 
evil, and of all habits which may bring dis- 
honor or reproach upon their profession, and 
to live in harmony and peace and in chris- 
tian fidelity with the members of the church. 
In case of discipline, the usual cha'ge against 
thi; offender is the viola' ion of his covenant 
vows With rare exceptions the Baptist 
churches are associated ; that is, the churches 
of each convenient district unite in an asso- 
ciation of churches, varying in numbers from 
four or five to fifty or sixty. Each church 
is represented at the annual meetings of 
these associations by the pastor and a num- 
ber of lay delegates. The functions of these 
associations are wholly advisory, except that 
sometimes there is fornn d from them a So- 
ciety or Board for missionary work, which 
may or may not be incorporated, but which, 
while responsible to the association which 
created it, takes upon itself, with their sanc- 
tion, the raising of the necessary monies for 
its work, and the maa:igement of that work 
in all its details. The Baptist churches have 
also in most of the states and teriitories, 
state conventions, composed in the smaller 
states of the pastor and two or three lay 
delegates from each church ; in the larger 
states, of clerical and lay delegates appointed 
by the associations. These conventions are 
generally occupied with the domestic mis- 
sionary work of the states, aiding feeble 
churches, establishing new ones, assisting in 
the cause of ministerial and denominational 
education, &c. In these bodies, as in the 
associations, the strictly democratic principle 
of having all power inhere in and proceed 
from the membership of the church is fully 
observed. 

The Baptist denomination in the United 
States maintains general organizations for 
Foreign Missionary purposes, for Home 
IMissions, Church Extension, and the educa- 
tion of Freedmen for the ministry ; for the 
translation, publication, and circulation of 
the scrijttures in our own country and in 
foreign lands ; for the publication of tracts, 
Sunday school, and denominational works ; 
for the prf)niotion of theological, collegiate, 
and academical educjftion. and a consolidated 
American Baptist Missionary Convention 
for missionary and educational work, maiidy 
among the freedmen. 

The ten societies of the denomination re- 
ceived in 1870 the following sums: for For- 
eign Missions, $229,7G8.44; for Home Mis- 



sions, Church Extension, &c., $237,645.50 ; 
Bible, Sunday school, and denominational 
publications and circulation, $384,324.17 
making a total of $851,738.11 for missionary 
and educational purposes. The contribu- 
tions for church purposes, and church exten- 
sion, education, &c., not passing through 
these channels, the same year was about 
$8,100,000 more. 

The statistics of the denomination for 
1870 were as follows: 799 associations, 17,- 
745 churches, 10,818 ordained ministers; 
whole number of members 1,419,492, a net 
gain of 198,144 during the year. There 
were connected with these churches 5,251 
Sunday Schools reported with 56,515 teach- 
ers, and 473,664 scholars. The number of 
volumes in the Sunday School libraries re- 
ported was 647,102, and the benevolent con- 
tributions of the schools $122,143. There 
were the same year 38 colleges and theo- 
logical seminaries belonging to the denomi- 
nations, besides 18 or 20 others, mostly for 
female education, founded by Baptists and 
mainly under their control. These institu- 
tions had about 350 instructors and professors 
and over 6,000 students. The college prop- 
erty of these institutions is somewhat more 
than $6,500,000. 

They supported in 1870, 24 weekly, 3 
semi-monthly, 1 2 monthly, and 3 quarterly 
periodicals devoted to the interests of the 
denomination, its Sunday Schools, and Mis- 
sion enterprises. 

II. Freewill Baptists. This denomi- 
nation originated in 1780, in which year 
Benjamin Kandall, a native of Newcastle, N. 
H., born in 1749, and in 1771 converted 
under the preaching of George Whitfield, 
organized the first Freewill Baptist church, 
at New Durham, N. H. Randall was a man 
of but moderate education, but he possessed 
a strong and brilliant intellect, and having 
become convinced, in 1776, that the views of 
the Baptists were correct in regard to the 
mode and subjects of baptism, he joined 
them, and very soon after commenced preach- 
ing. He Wits a diligent student, and the 
Calvinistic doctrines of the Baptist churches 
being distasteful to him, he adopted after 
careful examination the views of Arminius, 
substantially as held by the New Connec- 
tion of General Baptists in England, and the 
Methodists in this country. Mr. Randall 
preached these doctrines with great success, 
and in 1780 established his first church hold- 
ing these doctrines. He also adopted the 







ii >M,.Utt)iMi»iia<<saf»9r>- 



,-w**^ 




HISTORY AND PROORKSS OF THE DIFFEUENT DENOMINATIONS. 



505 



principle of free or open communion. The 
growth of the d(M)omination has been consid- 
erably rapitl, though it has been, from their 
titrong anti-slavery principles, confined en- 
tirely to tlu; northern states, and its churches 
have been multiplied rather in the country 
than in the large cities. Almost two thirds 
of" its mi'ml)ershi[) reside in New England 
and New York. Their views of doctrine 
correspond with the Uegular Ba])tists on all 
points except the following, wliich we give 
from their Confession of Faith : 

" The Atonement. As sin cannot be pardon- 
eil without a sacrilic^e, and (he Ijloodof beasts 
could never actually wash away sin, Christ 
gave himself a sacrifice for tiie sins of the 
world, and thus made salvation jiossible for 
all men. Through the redemption of Christ, 
man is placed on a second state of trial ; 
this second state so far differing from the 
first that now men are naturally inclined to 
transgress the commands of God, and will 
not regain the image of God in holiness but 
through the atonement, by the operation of 
the Holy Spirit. All who die short of the 
age of accountability are rendered sure of 
eternal life. Through the provisions of the 
atonement, all are abiiitated to repent of 
their sins, and yield to God ; the Gospel call 
is to all, the Spirit eidightens all, and men 
are apents capable of choosing or refusing." 

" Regeneration is an instantaneous renova- 
tion of the soul, by the Spirit of God, where- 
by the penitent siimer, believing in, and giv- 
ing up all for Christ, receives new life, and 
becomes a child of God. This change is 
preceded by true conviction, repentance of, 
and penitent sorrow for sin ; it is called in 
Scripture, "'being born again," "born of the 
Spirit," " passing from death imto life." The 
soul is then jiistijied with God." 

" Sanlijication is a setting apart the soul 
and body for holy service, an entire con- 
secration of all our redeemed powers to 
God ; believers are to strive for this with all 
diligence." 

'■^Perseverance. As the regenerate are plac- 
ed in a state of trial during life, their future 
obedience and final salvation are neither 
determined, nor certain ; it is, however, their 
duty and privilege to be steadfast in the 
truth, to grow in grace, persevere in holi- 
ness, and make their election sure." 

" Communion. Communion is a solemn par- 
taking of bread and wine, in commemoration 
of the death and sufferings of Christ." 

The custom or ordinance of "washing the 



saints' feet," once practised to a considerable 
extent by this denomination, is still optional 
with them, but has generally been aban- 
doned. In their church polity the Freewill 
Baptists are not so indepinident or demo- 
cratic as the Regular Baj)tists, having adop- 
ted, with their doctrines, some of the views 
of the JNIethodists on church government. 
They have but two classes of officers in the 
church, — elders and deacons. Each church 
elects its own pastor, and exercises discipline 
over its own nKnnbers ; but as a church is 
accountable to the yearly meeting, which 
has, also, the power of receiving appeals and 
trying them. The ecclesiastical organiza- 
tions of the denomination are the church, the 
quarterly meeting or conference, the annual 
meeting, and the general conference, which 
meets triennially. The quarterly conference 
consist of the ministers of its territory, and 
such lay members as the churches may 
select. A council from the quarterly confer- 
ence organizes churches, and ordains minis- 
ters, and the ministers are accountaI)le to it 
and not to their churches. The annual con- 
ferences are composcul of delegates appointed 
by the quarterly conferences, and the gen- 
eral conference delegates are chosen from the 
annual conferences. The statistics of the 
denomination for 1870, are as follows; One 
general conference ; thirty yearly meetings ; 
155 quarterly meetings ; 138(5 churches ; 1145 
ordained ministers, and 66,909 communi- 
cants. We have no report of their Sunday 
Schools, and no recent one of their benevo- 
lent contributions. Their donations to the 
foreign missionary cause in 1866, were 
$ 1 2,1 66, but have since been considerably in- 
creased. They have al-o a Home Mission 
Society, and an Education Society. They 
have four colleges : Bates College, Lewiston, 
Me., which is liberally (nidowed, and has 12 
instructors and 103 stiuleuts ; Hillsdale Col- 
lege, at Hillsdale, Mich.; West Virginia 
College, at Flemington, W. Va., and Ridge- 
ville College, Ridgeville, Ind. They have 
also a Theological Seminary at New Hamp- 
ton, N. H , and a Theological Department 
of Bates College, Me. There are also thir- 
teen academies, seminaries, &c., and a soci- 
ety for the promotion of Education in the 
South They have a printing establishment, 
the property o( the denomination, at Dover, 
N. H., and issue a weekly paper, the "Mor- 
ning Star," a monthly juvenile j)aper, and 
an annual, the " Freewill Baptist Register." 
The Free Communion Bai)tists or Free 



506 



HISTORT AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



Baptists, a, separate denomination until 1841, 
united with them in that year ; but the 
Freewill Baptist General Conference with- 
drew subsequently from 4000 of their own 
members in Noith Carolina, on the question 
of slavery, and refused to receive about 12,- 
000 more from Kentucky, who applied, on 
the same grounds. 

III. The Seventh Day Baptists, dif- 
fer from Regular Baptists only in the obser- 
vance of the seventh, instead of tlie first day 
of the week for religious worship. Their 
first church in the United States was organ- 
ized in 1671. They practice restricted com- 
munion, are Calvinistic in doctrine, and 
independent in church polity. They had in 
1870, seventy-five churches, eighty-two min- 
isters, and 7.336 members. They sustain 
missions in China and Palestine, and have a 
Home Missionary organization, an Educa- 
tion Society, and a tract and publishing 
house. They issue a weekly, a monthly, 
and a quarterly religious periodical. They 
have a flourisliing co lege, Alfred University, 
at Alfred, Alleghany Co., N. Y., with 16 
teachers and 364 students, and a good acad- 
emy, the *' De Ruyter Institute," at De Ruy- 
ter, Madison Co., N. Y. There are also a 
few churches of German Seventh Day 
Baptists, seceders from the Tunkers or 
German Baptists, in Franklin, Bedford, and 
York counties. Pa. They are inclined to 
monasticism, or the community life, and num- 
ber but a few hundreds. 

IV. The Six Principle Baptists are 
a small body, mostly confined to Rhode Isl- 
and, but having a few congregations in Mas- 
sachusetts, New York, and Pennsylvania. 
They are Arminian in do'trine. Their six 
principles are those stated in Flebrews, vi: 1, 
2. Their rite of "laying on of hands" is 
analogous to Episcopal couHrmation, and is 
their principal distinguishing point. Their 
ministers are not generally well educated, 
and receive no stated support. They are 
generally opposed to missions and to most of 
the reforms of the day. The denomination 
originated in 16J9, but has not grown rap- 
idly. It now numbers about 20 churches, 
18 ordained ministers, and 3,300 members. 
Tiiey have no periodical, and no schools or 
colleges. 

The Old School or Anti- Mission 
Baptists, are diminishing every year in 
numbers, but have their churches scattered 
through most of the states of the Union, 
except New England. They are generally 



hyper-calvinistic or anti-nomians, in doc- 
trine, and oppose strongly missions, sunday 
schools, temperance societies, and all agen- 
cies not mentioned in the Scriptures. Their 
ministers are not generally educated, and 
seldom or never receive any salary. Fifty 
years ago the number of these churches was 
very large, but they have dwindled to a few 
hundreds, and their membership to perhaps, 
45,000. They have no schools or colleges, 
but have several periodicals, one of tliem, 
" The Signs of the Times," being published 
semi-monthly, at Middletown, Orange Ca, 
N. Y. 

VI. The Disciples of Christ, or 
Church op Christ, or, as they are often 
called, though they do not acknowledge the 
name, Campbellites, are a body of Baptists, 
who owe their origin, as a distinct denomina- 
tion, mainly to the labors of Thomas and Al- 
exander Campbell, two Presbyterian clergy- 
men, father and son, who settled in Western 
Pennsylvania, in 1808. They originally 
belonged to the " Seceders," one of the 
denominations which had come off from the 
Scottish Kirk. The first effort of Mr. 
Thomas Campbell, in which his son joined 
him very heartily, was to effect a union of 
the different Protestant denominat'ons of 
that region, by an iigreement to reject all 
creeds and confessions of faith, and take the 
Scriptures only as the rule of faith and prac- 
tice, seeking to come at their meaning by 
earnest prayer, and careful study. A con- 
siderable numl)er joining in this work, a 
small congregation was formed in Washing- 
ton Co.. Penn., known as the " Brush Run 
Church," Sept. 10, 1810. Of this church 
Thomas Campbell was the elder or pastor, 
and by it, his son, Alexander, was oidained 
to the ministry. Careful and prayerful study 
of the Bible for nearly two years, brought 
the Campbells and several of their followers 
to the conclusion that the Scriptures taught 
" the immersion of believers," and they with 
five others, were accordingly baptized in 
June, 1812, by a Baptist minister. Within 
the next three years, their adherents had 
increased to five or six considerable congre- 
gations, and they united with the Redstone 
Baptist Association, stipulating, however, in 
writing " that no terms of union or commun- 
ion, other than the Holy Scriptures, should 
be required." Some difficulty arising in the 
Association in consequence of their meas- 
ures, they withdrew and joined the Mahon- 
ing (Ohio) Association, which soon became 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OP THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIOJfS. 



507 



fully idriitifieJ with the movement. In 182'5 
Alexander Campbell, a man ot" extens^ivc! 
scholarship, and remarkable logical and dia- 
lectic powers, commenced the publication of 
"The Christian Baptist." This periodical 
was edited with great ability, and through its 
very large circulation, aided by his extensive 
tours, and his public discussions wiili the 
leading men of different denominations, his 
peculiiir views spread widely among the 
Baptists and other denominations, through- 
out the Middle and Northwestern States. 
Though acknowledging no creed or confes- 
sion of faith, and making his motto " Faith 
in the Testimony of God, and obedience to 
the commandments of Christ, the only bond 
of union," INIr. Campbell did use a phraseol- 
ogy in the enunciation of his doctrines which 
was liable to perversion, and was, in fact, 
often perverted. He insisted that the Scrip- 
tures commp.nded "baptism for the remis- 
sion of sins," and as Peter replied in Acts, 
ii : 38, to those who asked what they should 
do: "Repent and be baptized, every one of 
you, in the name of Jesus Christ, for the 
remission of sins, and ye shall receive the 
gifts of the Holy Ghost," so he would have 
the Cliristian minister now baptize all who 
professed to be penitent, for the remission of 
their sins, and the assurance of pardon, and 
the gifts of the Holy Spirit. His own views 
were decided that penitence and faith were 
necessary to salvation, but that the assur- 
ance of this pardon and salvation was to be 
attained through submission to this initiatory 
rite. To many oP the Baptist churches, it 
seemed that this was opening the door to a 
belief in ba|)tismal regeneration, a doctrine 
abhorrent to them as to most Protestants, 
and in 1827 the excision of Mr. Campbell's 
followers conuuenced, and was carried on 
unsparingly for many years after. Their 
exclusion from the regular Baptist churches 
led to their forming churches and associa- 
tions of their own. and their numbers were 
largely augmented by the accession of a 
body known as Reformers, who, by an in- 
dependent process, had reached substantial- 
ly the same conclusions with them. The 
'' Disciples," owing to their somewhat pecu- 
liar and vague phraseology in avowing their 
faith, have been charged with Unitarianism, 
as well as some other heresies ; but it is now 
very generally conieded that they are Trini- 
tarians, and that they do not differ in the 
cardinal doctrines of the Bible from other 
Evangelical Christians. That their formula 



on the sul)jcct of baptism has led some astray 
and prejudiced the minds of others, is prob- 
ably true; but judged by the te<ts of Clu-ist- 
ian activity and e\ angel i('al labor, they are 
perhaps little, ifat all, behind other denomina- 
tions. Their only distinctive practice, aside 
from the bai>tismal fornuda, is the observance 
of the ordinance of the Lord's Supper weekly. 
They recognize three orders of chundi offi- 
cers, viz: 1. Elders, presbyters, or bishops, 
terms which they regard as synonymous; 2. 
Deacons; 3. Evangelists. The last are their 
itinerant ministry or missionaries, and are 
supported by voluntary contributions. They 
are very earnest in their support ot education- 
al institutions, and of organizations for the 
distribution of the Scriptures. Their disting- 
uished leader died in 1 806. at the age of 77, af- 
ter performing an amount of intellectual labor 
greater than falls to the lot of one educated 
man in a thousand. He had w-ritten largely 
on theological subjects, edited for more tlian 
forty years a very able religious j)eriodical, 
conducted successfully live or six protracted 
public discussions, founded, and taught large 
classes in a college of good repute, and 
preached many thousand sermons. 

The " Disciples " at the time of his death 
had 1,642 preachers (elders or bishops) a 
large number of evangelists, and 424,250 
members. Their present number of preach- 
ers of both classes is estimated at alx)ut 
3,000, their congregations at nearly .'),000, 
and their membership at about o 12,000. 
The educational institutions organized and 
supported by the " Discijdes," are Ken- 
tucky University at Lexington, Ky.; Bethany 
College, Bethany, West X'irginia; a College 
at Indianopolis, Ind. ; Eureka College and 
Abingdon College, at Eureka and Abingdon, 
111.; Oskaloosa College, Iowa ; Wilmington 
College, Wilmington, Ohio ; Franklin Col- 
lege, near Nashville, Tenn. ; Woodland Col- 
lege, California ; fleffersontown and F^min- 
ence, Kentucky; female colleges at Colum- 
bia, Missouri, Versailles, and Ilarrodsburg, 
Ky., and Bloomington, 111. ; and 12 Acade- 
mies and Seminaries. They have twenty- 
three periodicals, of which 9 are weekly, 13 
monthly, and one quarterly. The " Millen- 
niid Harbinger" a monthly, suecesded the 
" Christian Baptist" Dr. Campbell's fir.st 
periodical, and was edited by him till his 
death. 

VIL The Christian Connection, often 
but unproperly called Cukist-ians, are a 
body of religionists who claim a threefold 



508 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OP THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



origin. In North Carolina, in 1793, a con- 
siderable nnmlier of churches seceded from 
the Methodist Episcopal Church under the 
leadership of Rev. J. O. Kelley, and others, 
and first took the name of Republican Meth- 
odists, but afterward making the Bible their 
sole standard of faith, and having become 
convinced of the necessity of immersion on 
the profession of faith, they adopted the 
name of " Christians" In 1 800, Dr. Abner 
Jones, Elias Smith, and other members of a 
Baptist church in Ilartland, Vermont, know- 
ing nothing of the action of these North 
Carolina churches, separated from the church 
with which they were connected and organ- 
ized a church at Lyndon, Vermont, on the 
principle of "making the Bible alone their 
confession of faith." This soon grew in 
numbers and other churches were consti- 
tuted on the same principle. In 1801, after 
the great revival in Kentucky and Tennes- 
see, which led to the organization of the 
Cumberland Presbyterian Church, Rev. B. 
W. Stone, and four other Presbyterian min- 
ister-^ of Kentucky, withdrew, and adopting 
soon after the name of " Christians," organ- 
ized churches and formally proclaimed their 
principles in 1804. These three bodies 
originating in as many denominations, came 
together in a general convention two or three 
years later and became one body. They 
have two Quadrennial Conferences, the 
United States and the Southern. Their 
first weekly periodical, " The Herald of Gos- 
pel Liberty,'' was one of the first if not the 
first of the religious newspapers published in 
the United States, and is still maintained. 

Admitting no creed or confession of faith, 
and allowing all its adherents to interpret 
the Scriptures for themselves, the Christian 
Connection necessarily allows a wide range 
of doctrinal belief, and it is somewhat diffi- 
cult to determine what are their doctrinal 
views. A considerable portion, especially 
in the Western and Central States, are not 
Trinitarians. They hold that there is one 
God, the God of the Bible ; that Christ is a 
divine being, pre-existent, and the mediator 
between God and man ; that Christ's suffer- 
ings and death atone for the sins of all men, 
who, by repentance and faith, may be saved. 
They believe immersion the only proper 
mode, and believers the only proper subjects 
of baptism. Communion at the Lord's table 
is open to believers of all denominations. In 
regard to church government and polity, 
each church is theoretically and practically 



independent. They have annual State Con- 
ferences, composed of ministerial and lay 
delegates from the churches which receive 
and ordain pastors, but can pass no laws 
binding the several churches. Their Gen- 
eral Convention or Conference has Mission- 
ary, Educational, Publishing, and Sabbath 
School departments, each of which are in a 
prosperous condition. They have a publish- 
ing establishment at Dayton, Ohio, from 
which are issued, the Gospel Herald, a week- 
ly, the Sunday School Herald, a monthly 
periodical, a Quarterly Review, and a Chris- 
tian Register, annually, and the books and 
tracts of the denomination. The " Herald 
of Gospel Liberty" now (1871) in its sixty- 
third year, is still published at Newburyport 
Mass. There was also, previous to the war. 
a pubhshing establishment of the denomina- 
tion at Suffolk, Va., and " The Christian 
Sun," the organ of the Southern churches, 
was published there. The printing estab- 
lishment was destroyed and its funds lost 
during the war, but the paper, though dis- 
continued for the time, was revived in 1867. 
There is great difficulty in ascertaining ac- 
curately the statistics of the " Christian Con- 
nection." At the West they are often con- 
founded with " The Disciples," with whom 
many of them fraternize. They have about 
70 Conferences, and it is estimated 3,000 
ministers, 5,000 churches, and about 300,000 
members. Their educational institutions are 
Antioch College, Ohio, which has been aided 
largely by the Unitarians, Union Christian 
College, Indiana, Le Grand Institute, Iowa, 
Wolfsborough Seminary, New Hampshire, 
and Starkey Seminary, New York. We 
can obtain no statistics of their Sabbath 
Schools. 

VIII. The Mennonites, a denomination 
of Baptists, first known in Holland as the 
followers of Simonis Menno in the sixteenth 
century. They settled in and about Ger- 
mantown, Penn., in 1683, and in Lancaster 
County, Penn., in 1709. They have since 
spread over a great portion of Pennsylvania, 
and have churches also in Maryland, Vir- 
ginia, Ohio, Indiana, New York, and Cana- 
da. Their doctrines are, in general, similar 
to those of the regular Baptist churches, ex- 
cept that some of them admit the validity of 
sprinkling as bapti>m. They observe the 
ordinance of " Washing the Saints' feet," and 
forbid their members to marry any except 
those who are members of the church. They 
resemble the Friends in their aversion to 



niSTOUY AND rUOORESS OF THE DIFFKKEVT DENOMINATIONS. 



509 



legal oaths, to war. and to capital punish- 
ment. They are divided into three parties, 
or sub-sects : the Old Meniionites, the lie- 
formed Mennonitos, wlio came otF in 1811 ; 
and the Amish Church or Hooker Men- 
nonites. All profess to agree to the stand- 
ard or confession of faith adopted at Doit, 
Holland in 1632. The statistics of the de- 
nomination, as wi 11 as its history, are very 
imperfectly known. According to their 
journals they had, in 1859. 128,000 mem- 
bers in America ; but later statistics (in 
18G9) which do not, ho\v<'ver, include Can- 
ada, where they are considerably numerous, 
put their nunil)or in the United States at 
60,000, with al)()ut 400 churches, and per- 
haps 450 ministers. In 18G0, the eighth 
census reported their church edifices as hav- 
ing only sittings for ;}7,<iOl>. hut these returns 
were so fallacious that little dependence 
could be placed upon tliem. The denomina- 
tion are not apjiarently increasing with any 
great rapidity. They have one English, and 
two German newspapers, and a German and 
an English Almanac, all published at Elk- 
hart, Ind., except one of the German papers, 
which is issued from Milford Scpiare, Penn., 
There are no colleges, we believe, under 
their special care or patronage. 

IX. BitETiiiiKN, German Baptists, 
TuNKERs OR DuNKERS. A Small body of 
Bapti-ts, who originated at Schwartzenau, 
Germany, in 17().S, but were driven to Amer- 
ica by persecution in 1719. They are found 
mostly in Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Virginia, 
Maryland, and Indiana. In doctrine they 
incline to Arminiani~;m, believing in a gene- 
ral redemption, thoui'h in other doctrines, 
they refer to the confession of Dart, which 
is Calvini tic. They have been charged 
with believing in tin; final restoration of the 
wicked to heaven and happiness, but the doc- 
trine is not a part of their public teaching, 
and is not perhaps generally held by them. 
They practice trine, immersion, and in bap- 
tism incline the body forward instead of 
backward as other Baptists do. They also 
practice laying on of hands and prayer, while 
the person baptized is still in the water. 
The Lord's Supper is celebrated with its ac- 
companying usages of love feasts, the wash- 
ing of feet, the kiss of charity, and the right 
hand of fellowship. They also anoint the 
sick with oil for their recovery. In other 
matters they resemble the Friends, using 
great plainness of dress and speech, refusing 
to take legal oaths, and to engage in war. 



They will not go to law, and generally will 
not lake interest on money lent. They have 
bishops or ministers, elders or teachers, dea- 
cons, and deaconesses, the latter being aged 
women set apart for this sjiecial work. The 
ministers or bishops alone receive ordination. 
Until recently, questions were decided by lot 
instead of by voting. Their statistics in 
1866 were 200 churches, 150 ministers or 
bishops, about 500 elders, and 2(),(»0(» mem- 
bers. They have recently established Sab- 
bath Schools, though a branch of them, (the 
Seventh Day Dunkers,) maintained a Sunday 
School at Ephratah, Penn., from 1740 to 
1770. 

X. CnuRCH OF God or Winebrennk- 
RlANS, a denomination of Baptists, organiz- 
ed in 1830, by Rev. John Winebrenner, for- 
merly a minister of the German Ketbrmed 
Church at Harrisburg, Pa., where he was 
settled in 1821. He was very successful in 
his pastorate, and great revivals took place 
in his congregations, but he was charged 
with deviating from the doctrines and prac- 
tice of the German Reformed Church. In 
1830 he withdrew from the church, and held 
a meeting with some other preachers, in 
whi<'h it was resolved that the only scriptu'al 
name for the one true Church was " The 
Church of God," and that they woukl hence- 
forth belong to that church only. At the 
same time Mr. Winebrenner avowed the 
change of views to which he had been led, 
which was accepted by the others. 

The doctrines then advanced arc substan- 
tially those of " The Church of God" to-day. 
The general tone of her doctrines is thor- 
oughly evangelical though inclined rather to 
the Arminian than the Calvinistic view. So 
far as baptism, in mode and subjects, is con- 
cerned they are in unison with the regular 
Baptists. Their peculiar views of doctrine 
and polity are thus expressed by themselves : 
— She ("The Church of God") beli(!Ves in 
three positive ordinances of perpetual stand- 
ing in the church, viz., Bapti-m, Feet- Wash- 
ing, and the Lord's Supper. — She believes 
that the ordinance of feet-washing, that is, 
the literal washing of the saints' feet, accord- 
ing to the words and example of Christ, is 
obligatory on all Chiistians, and ought to be 
observed by all the churches of God. 

She believes that the Lord's Supper should 
be often administered, and to be consistent, 
to Christians only, in a sitting posture and 
always in the evening. 

She believes in the propriety and utility 



510 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



of holding fa?t days, experience meetings, 
anxious meetings, camp meetings, and other 
special nTetings of united and protracted 
efforts for the edification of the church, and 
the conversion of sinners. 

She believes in the personal coming and 
reicn of Jesus Christ. Tliere are also arti- 
cles in her confession of faith against the 
manufacture, traffic, and use of ardent spir- 
its as a beverage, against slavery as impolitic, 
and unchristian, and against civil wars as 
unholy and sinful and that the saints of the 
Most High ought never to participate in 
them. 

Her church government is somewhat pe- 
culiar. She claims to be independent and 
Congregational, yet each church has its coun- 
cil, composed of the preachers in charge, 
and the elders and deacons, which has all 
the powers of the session of a Presbyterian, 
or the consistory of a Reformed church. 

She has also her annual Elderships, con- 
sisting of all the pastors, and an equal num- 
ber of ruling elders within a given district, 
and her Triennial General Eldership, con- 
sisting of delegates from the Annual Elder- 
ships, who, if preachers, must have been at 
least five years in the ministry. This Gen- 
eral E'dership owns and controls all the 
common property of the church. Her offi- 
cers are ministers, who may be either sta- 
tioned pastors, itinerants on circuits, or mis- 
sionaries at large ; ruling elders, and deacons. 
The church has a domestic and a foreign 
missionary society, and a printing establish- 
ment. They issue a weekly paper " The 
Church Advocate,''' a Sunday School paper, 
and a German weekly paper. They have 
two colleges, one at Centralia, Kansas, and 
another as yet only partly organized. Their 
numbers were estima'ed in 1870, at 400 
churches, 3;'i0 ordained ministers, and 30,000 
members. They are found mostly in Penn- 
sylvania. Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Mich- 
igan, and Kansas. 



IV. PRESBYTERIANS. 

I, The Presbyterian Churoh in the 
U. S. America. (North.) This large and 
respectable body of Christians, trace their 
origin as a denomination in tliis country to 
the Scottish Kirk, or Establisheo Church of 
Scotland, to which most of the early Pres- 
byterians in this c'tuntry had belonged pre- 
vious to their emigration hither. The first 



Presbyterian church in the Colonies is be- 
lieved to have been the Rehoboth church in 
Maryland, organized in 1 690 ; that on Eliz- 
abeth Hiver, Virginia, was formed about the 
same time, and those of Freehold, and 
Woodbridge, N. J., not later than 1 692. The 
first presbytery, (that of Ihiladelphia,) was 
formed in 1706, and a synod of four presby- 
teries in 1716. A division took place be- 
tween the "Old Side" and the " New Side" 
or " New Lights," in the synod (the synod 
of Philadelphia) in 1741 ; the "Old side in- 
sisting upon a thoroughly educated ministry, 
and the strict observance of Presljyterial 
order in accordance with the rules of the 
Scottish Kirk, while the " New Side"' or "New 
Lights," who had been to some extent under 
the influence of Whitfield and his followers, 
required conclusive evidence of experimental 
religion in the candidates for the ministry, 
and a liood. but not necessarily a collegiate ed- 
ucation, and were le-s strenuous on the minu- 
ti^ of Presbyterial order. This division 
continued for 1 7 years, when the two parties 
came together and the two synods were 
united under the name of the '' Synod of 
New York, and Philadelphia." At the close 
of the Uevolutionary war, there were about 
170 Presbyterian ministers, and rather more 
than that number of churches, with an en- 
tire membership of less than 20,000. In 
17(S?S a committee of the Synod had com- 
pleted tlie revision of the standards of doc- 
trine and polity of the church, and recom- 
mended its reorganization into four synods, 
and a GiMieral Assembly over the whole. 
This recommendation was adopted, and tak- 
ing a new (lei)arture from the great revivals 
of 1800, ,801, and 1802, the church began 
to grow witii considerable rapidity. In ISOI 
a " plan of Union" vvaS arranged lietween 
the I re^byterians and Congregationalists in 
the new settlements to prevent disagreement 
between the two denominations, and to facil- 
itate their cooperation in missionary enter- 
pri.-^es. This continued 36 years. There 
had been evidently two parties in the Pres- 
by eii.ni church prior to 1830, but there had 
been no decided collision between them until 
about 183-3. when some test cases led to a 
division, and the excision of four synods 
from the (general Assembly in 1837. At 
this tune tiie New School General Assembly 
was formed, and for thirty-three years there 
were two General Assemblies, both calling 
them-elves the General Assemblv of the 
Presbyteran Church in the United States of 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



511 



America ; both holding professedly to the 
same standards and alike in church polity as 
well as in doctrine. They were distinguished 
as the Old School and the New School Gen- 
eral Assemblies. P^ach had their missionai^, 
and publication organizations, though the 
New School body cociperated for many years 
with the American Board of Commi?sioners 
for Foreign Missions, and the American 
Home MisMonary Society. In 1870, after 
a discussion and balloting for nearly two 
years on the details, the two General Assem 
blies, with their entire constituency reunited, 
and now form one body. The Southern 
synods, the larger portion of them belonging 
to the Old School branch, seceded from the 
General Assembly, those heretofore belong- 
ing to the New School in 18o7, and those of 
the OUl School in 18GI, and eventually coa- 
lesced in the General Assembly of the Pres- 
byterian Church, south. Overtures have 
since been made to them for reunion with 
the now United church in the Northern 
states, but they have been thus far repelled. 

The Presbyterian cluirch recognizes and 
avows the necessity of doctrinal standards of 
faith, and adopts as its standard. The West- 
minster Ass mbly's Confession of Faith, and 
Exposition of doctrine, as contained in the 
shorter and largi;r catechisms of that body. 
We have not space to give the whole of 
these, but insert below, those which are dis 
tinctive in their character, giving only the 
answers to the questions of the shorter eate 
chism, as tliese contain the declarative por 
tion of I lie confession. It is hardly necessary 
to say that this confession is always in ac- 
cordan.-e with the principles, and often uses 
the ve y phraseology (translated) of Calvin 
in his celebrated Institutes, and is sustained 
by abundant references to scripture on each 
point. 

" 1. Man's chief end is to glorify God, and 
to enjoy Him forever. 

2. The Word of God, which is contained 
in the Sci-ii)tures of the Old and New Tes- 
taments, is the only rule to direct us how we 
may glorify and enjoy him forever. 

3. The Scriptures prin(,'ipally teach what 
man is to believe concerning God, and what 
mty God recpiires of man. 

4. G )d is a spirit, inlinite, eternal and un- 
cliange.i )Ie, in his being, wisdom, power, ho- 
liness, ustice, goodness, and truth. 

5. There is but one only, the living and 
true G 'd. 

6. Tiiere are three persons in the God- 



head, the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
Ghost, and these three are one God, the 
same in substance, equal in power and glory. 

7. The decrees of God are his eternal 
purpose, according to the counsel of his will, 
whereby for his own glory, he hath fore-or- 
dained whatsoever comes to pass. 

8. God executes his decrees in the works 
of creation and providence. 

9. The work of creation is, God's making 
all things of nothing, by the word of his 
power, in the space of six days, and all very 
good. 

10. God created man, male and female, 
after his own image, in knowledge, right- 
eousness, and holiness, with dominion over 
his creatures. 

11. God's works of providence are. his 
most holy, wi.-e, and powerful preserving 
and governing all liis creatures, and all their 
actions. 

12. When God had created man, he en- 
tered into a covenant of life with him, upon 
condition of perfect obedience ; forbidding 
him to eat of the tree of knowledge of good 
and evil, upon the pain of death. 

13. Our first parents being left to the 
freedom of their own will, fell from the 
estate in which they were created, by sin- 
ning against God. 

14. Sin is any want of conformity unto, 
or transgression of, the law of God. 

15. The sin wdiereby our first parents fell 
from the estate wherein they were created 
was their eating the forbidden fruit. 

16. The covenant being made with Adam, 
not only for himsilf but lor his posterity; 
all mankind descending from him by ordin- 
ary generation, sinned in him, and fell with 
him, in his first transgression. 

17. The fall brought mankind into an es- 
tate of sin and misery. 

18. The sinfulness of that estate where- 
into man fell, consists in the guilt of Adam's 
first sm, the want of original righteousness, 
and the corruption of his whole nature, 
which is commonly called original sin, to- 
gether with all actual transgressions which 
proceed from it. 

19. All mankind by their fall lost com- 
munion with God. are under his wrath and 
curse, and so made liable to all the miseries 
of this life, to death itself, and to the piiius 
of hell forever. 

20. God having out of his mere good 
pleasure, from all eternity, elected some to 
everlasting life, did enter into a covenant of 



512 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



grace to deliver them out of the estate of siu 
and misery, and to bring them into an estate 
of salvation by a Redeemer. 

21. The only Redeemer of God's elect is 
'the Lord Jesus Christ, who, being the Eter- 
nal Son of God, became man, and so was and 
continues to be God and man, in two dis- 
tinct natures and one person, forever. 

22. Christ, the Son of God, became man, 
by taking to himself a true body and a rea- 
sonable soul, being conceived by the power 
of the Holy Ghost, in the womb of the Vir- 
gin Mary, and born of her, yet without sin. 

23. Christ, as our Redeemer, executes the 
offices of a prophet, of a priest, and of a 
king, both in his estate of humiliation and 
exaltation. 

24. He executes the office of a Prophet in 
revealing to us, by his Word and Spirit, the 
will of God for our salvation. 

25. He executes the office of a Priest, in 
his once offering up himself a sacrifice, to sat- 
isfy divine justice, and reconcile us to God ; 
and in making continual intercession for us. 

26. He executes the office of a King, in 
subduing us to himself, in ruling and defend- 
ing us, and in restraining and conquering all 
his and our enemies. 

27. Christ's humiliation consisted in his 
being born, and that in a low condition, made 
under the law, undergoing the miseries of 
this life, the wrath of God, and the accursed 
death of the cross ; in being buried, and con- 
tinuing under the power of death for a time. 

28. His exaltation consists in his rising 
again from the dead on the third day, in his 
ascending up into Heaven, in his sitting on 
the right hand of God the Fatlier, and in his 
coming to judge the world at the last day. 

2i). We are made partakers of the re- 
demption purchased by Christ, by the effect- 
ual application of it to us by his Holy Spirit. 

30. The Spirit applies to us the redemp- 
tion purchased by Christ, by working faith 
in us, and thereby uniting us to Christ, m 
our effectual calling. 

31. Effectual calling is the work of Good's 
Spirit, whereby convincing us of our sin and 
misery, enlightening our minds in the knowl- 
edge of Christ, and renewing our wills, he 
doth persuade and enable us to embrace 
Jesus Christ, freely offered to us in the gos- 
pel. 

32. They that are effectually called, do, 
in this life, partake of justification, adoption, 
sanctification, and the several benefits, which, 



hi this life, do either accompany or tlow from 
them. 

33. Justification is an act of God's free 
grace, wherein he pardons all our sins, and 
accepts us as righteous in his sight, only for 
the righteousness of Christ, imputed to us, 
and received by faith alone. 

34. Adoption is an act of God's free grace, 
whereby we are received into the number, 
and have a right to all the privileges of, the 
sons of God. 

35. Sanctification is the work of God's free 
grace, whereby we are renewed in the whole 
man, after the image of God, and are ena- 
bled more and more to die unto siu, and live 
unto righteousness. 

36. The benefits which, in this life, do 
accompany or flow from justification, adop- 
tion and sanctification, are, assurance of God's 
love, peace of conscience, joy in the Holy 
Ghost, increase of grace, and perseverance 
therein to the end. 

37. The souls of believers are, at their 
death, made perfect in holiness, and do im- 
mediately pass into g'ory ; and their botlies 
being still united to Christ, do rest in their 
graves till the resurrection. 

38. At the resurrection, believers being 
raised up in g'ory, shall be openly acknowl- 
edged and acquitted in the day of judgment, 
and made perfectly blessed in the full enjoy- 
ment of God to all eternity. 

39. The duty which God requires of man 
is obedience to his revealed will. 

40. The rule wliicli God at first revealed 
to man for his obedience, was the moral law. 

41. The moral law is summarily compre- 
hended in the ten commandments. 

42. The sum of the ten commandments is, 
to love the Lord our God, with all our heart, 
with all our soul, with all our strength, and 
with all our mini ; and our neighbor as our- 
selves." 

(Then follow in the Catechism, forty 
questions and answers, comprising the words 
of the ten commandments and expositions of 
their teaching, not necessary to be inserted 
here, and the Catechism then proceeds with 
answer.) 

" 82. No mere man, since the fall, is able, 
in this life, perfectly to keep the command- 
ments of Grod, but doth daily break them, in 
thought, word, and deed. 

83. All transgiessions of the law are not 
equally heinous, some sins in themselves, 
and by reason of several aggravations, 



niSTORY AND mOGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



513 



being more henious in the sight of God than 
others. 

84. Every sin deserves God's Avrath and 
curse, both in this hie, and that which is to 
come. 

85. To escape the wrath and curse of 
God, due to us for sin, God requireth of us 
faith hi Jesus Christ, repentance unto life, 
with the diligent use of all the outward 
means whereby Christ communicateth to us 
the benefits of redemption. 

8G. Faith in Jesus Christ is a saving 
grace, whereby we receive and rest upon 
liim alone for salvation, as he is offered to 
us in the gospel. 

87. Repentance unto life is a saving grace 
wiiereby a sinner, out of a true sense of his 
sin, and apiirehension of the mercy of God 
in Christ, doth with grief and hatred of his 
sin turn from it unto God, with full purpose 
of, and endeavor after, new obedience. 

88. The outward and ordinary means 
whereby Christ communicateth to us the 
benefits of redemption, are his ordinances, 
especially the word, sacraments, and prayer ; 
all which are made effectual to the elect for 
salvation. 

SS. The Spirit of God maketh the read- 
ing, but e-pecially the preaching of the word, 
an effectual means of convincing and con- 
verting sinners, and of building them up in 
holiness and comfort, through faith, unto sal- 
vation. 

90. That the word may become effectual 
to salvation, we mu^t attend thereunto with 
diligence, preparation, and prayer ; receive it 
with faith and love ; lay it up in our hearts, 
and practise it in our lives. 

81. The sacraments become effectual 
means of salvation, n)t from any virtue in 
them, or in him that doth administer them ; 
but only by the blessing of Christ, and the 
working of His Si)irit, in them that by faith 
receive them. 

92. A sacrament is a holy ordinance insti- 
tuted by Christ wherein by sensible si^ns, 
Christ and the benefi's of the new covennnt 
are rei)resented, sealed, and applied to be- 
lievers. 

93. Tlie sacraments off the New Testa- 
ment are Baptism and the Lord's Supper. 

94. Baptism is a sacrament wherein the 
washing with water, in the name of the 
Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy 
Ghost, doth signify and seal our engrafting 
into Christ, and partaking of the covenant of 
grace, and our eiignixement to be the Lord's. 

31* 



9.1. Baptism is not to be administered to 
any that are out of the visible church till they 
profess their faith in Christ and obedience to 
him ; but the infants of such as are members 
of the visible church are to be baptized. 

86. The Lord's Supper is a sacrament 
wherein by giving and receiving bread and 
wine, according to Christ's appointment, his 
death is showed forth ; and the worthy re- 
ceivers are, not after a corporeal and carnd 
manner, but by faith, made partakers of his 
body and blood, with all his benefits, to their 
spiritual nourishment and growth in giace. 

97. It is required of them that would 
worthily partake of the Lord's Supper, that 
they examine themselves of their knowledge 
to discern the Lord's body, of their faith to 
feed upon him, of their repentance, love and 
new obedience, lest, coming unworthily, they 
eat and drink judgment to themselves. 

98. Prayer is an ofl'ering up of our desires- 
to God for things agreeable to his will, in the 
name of Christ, with confession of our sins, 
and thankful acknow-hnlgment of his mercies. 

99. The whole word of God is of use to 
dii'ect us in prayer, but the special rule of 
direction is that form of prayer wliicli Christ 
taught his disciples, commonly called the 
Lord's Prayer. 

100. The preface of the Lord's Prayer 
{^Our Father which art in Heaven) teaclieth 
us to draw near to God with all holy rever- 
ence and contidence, as children to a Father, 
uble and ready to help us ; and that we 
should pray with and for others. 

101. In the fii-st petition {HdUmrcd he thy 
name)., we pray that God would enalile us, 
and others, to glorify him in all that whereby 
he maketh himself known, and that he would 
dispose all things to his own glory. 

102. In the second petition {Thy h'ngdom 
cnme), we {»rhy that Satan's kingduni may 
be destroyed, and that the kingdom of grace 
may be advanced, ourselves and others 
brought into it, and kej)! in it, and that the 
kingdom of glory may be hastened. 

103. In the tliird petition {Thy xciU he 
done on earth as it is in Heaven), we pray, 
that God, by his grace, would make us both 
able and willing to know, obey, and submit 
to his will in all things, as the angels do in 
Heaven. 

104. In the fourth petition {Give us this 
day our daily bread), we pray that of God's 
free gift, we may receive a com[)etent por- 
tion of the; gro'l things of this life, and enjoy 
his bles-in<r vith them. 



514 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



105. In the fifth petition {Forgive us our 
dehts, as we forgive our debtors), we pray, 
that God, for Christ's sake, would freely 
pardon our sins; which we are the raihcr 
encouraged to ask, because by his grace, we 
are enal)led fioin the heart to forgive others. 

106. In the sixth petition {And lead us not 
into lemptaiion, but deliver us from evil), we 
pray that God would either keep us from be- 
ing tem|)ted to sin, or support and deUver us 
when we are tempted. 

107. The conehision of the Lord's Prayer 
{^For thine is the kingdom, and the jxnvr and 
the glory, forever. Amen.) teacheth us to take 
our encouragement to prayer from G^d only. 
and in our prayers to praise Him, ascriliing 
kingdoiu, power, and glory to Him. And in 
testimony of our desire and assurance to be 
heard, we say, amen. 

It will be seen from the 95th article, that 
the Presbyterian Church, as well as some of 
the denoiu'nations which follow in this vol 
ume, is Pccdo baptist or holds to the doctrine 
of infont baptism, in distinction from the 
churches of the P>aptist group which admin- 
ister baptism oidy to believers. It also d'f 
fers from all the churches which we have 
previou-ly de-cribed, in its church govern- 
ment and polity. The Presbyterial lorm 
of church government characterizes (under 
somewhat iliffei'ent names, but with the satne 
meaning) all the churches which are athliat 
ed with the Presbyterian, and it may there 
fore be described here once for all. Their 
government is representative rather than 
democratc. They recognize two cla>ses of 
elders (presbytei's); the teaching elder or 
minister of the word, and the ruling eliler, 
a repre-^entative of the people, and i hen- 
agent and ru'er in matters pertaining to the 
chiu'ch. While they have but one teaching 
elder or preacher, generally a pastor, to tli<- 
church, they have two, four, or more, ruling 
elders, who, with the teaching elder and dea 
cons, constitute the church session, which 
governs tlie church in all matters of doctrine 
and discipline, and being elected lor that 
purpose also, has charge of the temporalities 
of tlie church. The church court next above 
the church, and, in ordinary cases, the lead 
ing judicatory, is the presbytery, composed 
of the teaching elders or preachers, and one 
rulin^Z elder in each church within its bounds. 
The ordaining, recognition, and dismissal of 
pastors are conducted by the presbytery, on 
the apphcatiou of the minister and the church 



with which he is, or is to be, officially con- 
nected. (It is noteworth that very often 
the minister is not a member of the church 
to which he ministers.) Difficult cases ot^ 
discipline, or those in which there are two 
parties in a church, come before the presby- 
tery for adjudication ; and all charges of her 
esy, or misconduct against any of its minis- 
ters, is brought before it for trial and inves- 
tigation. Above the presbytery in the gra- 
dation of church courts, is the synod, compos- 
ed of a certain number of presbyteries, and 
when in session consisting of delegates from" 
each presbytery, lay and clerical. It is a 
court of appeal from the presbytery, and ilsj 
wider range of territory and larger number 
of able ministers and elders gives it some 
advantages. The final court of resort in all 
church matters is, however, the General 
Assembly or General Synod, composed of 
commissioners, clerical and lay, from the 
Synods. This General Assembly possesses 
entire control over the church action, the 
doctrinal soundness, and the educational and 
benevolent institutions of the denomination, 
and is, in its assembled capacity, the embod- 
iment of the Presbyterian Church in Amer- 
ica, or of the other organizations which it 
represents. Its sessions are annual, and usu- 
ally contiime for two or three weeks, and 
sometimes even longer. The Presbyterian 
Churches seem to have for their specialty 
the discussion of the doctrines of their con- 
fession of faith, and the detection of any and 
every form of heresy. Months and years of 
their history have been devoted to these dis- 
cussions, and, while these are certainly im- 
portant, thei-e is danger that in these dialec- 
tic struggles their strength will be so far 
expended that they will hardly keep pace 
with the 01 her denominations in growth and 
progress. Still they are one of the sti-ongest 
and most efficient of ihe evangelical dentmii- 
naiions in the United States, and are likely 
to do more efficient work in the future 
than tliey have in the past. They have 
shown a most commendal^le liberality recent- 
ly. During the year en ling in May, 1871, 
the new reunited Presbyerian Church had 
contributed to a memoi'ial iund for building 
and paying the debts on church edifices, en- 
dowing colleges and theological seminaries, 
planting new missions, etc., etc., the magnifi- 
cent sum of $8,600,1 »()0, aside from their 
regidar contributions to missionary, publica- 
tion, educational, and other objects, and the 



HISTORY AND PUOGllKSS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



515 



expenditure for current church expenses, sal- 
arii'?!, etc., which amounted to about $8,000,- 
OUO more. 

The statistics of the " Presbyterian Church 
in the U. S. A.," for 1870, were as follows: 

There were 51 synods; 259 presbyteries; 
4.238 onhiined ministers ; 3o8 licentiates and 
541 candidates for licensure; 4,526 churches; 
44(),5()1 coinnnuiicants ; 32.0(13 were added 
on examination, and 21.447 on certificate; 
10,122 adults and 1G,47G infants baptized; 
448,857 members of the Sabbath Schools. 
The benevolent contributions (not includin<:; 
any part of the memorial fund mentioned 
above) $8,44i>,121. The net gain in the 
number of communicants in the year 1870-1 
was 8,817, and the whole number of mem- 
bers reported May, 1871, 455.378. 

ir. Presbyterian Church, in the 
United States (South) — This body is com- 
posed of the seceders, who came off from ihe 
New School Presbyterian Ctiurch in 1857, 
and who joined the Southern General Assem 
bly in 1S63, and the seceders from the d 
School Presbyterian Church, who left it in 
1861, and immediately formed the Southei'n 
General Assembly. The secession, in both 
instances, was ba>ed mainly on the position 
of the two Northern Gi-neral Asseml)lies on 
the question of Slavery, aid in the latter 
case al-o b 'cause that in the war then just 
commenced, the Old School General Assem 
bly avowed its loyalty and ailherence to the 
Union. Darinif tlie war there were hasty. 
and, perhaps, injudicious resolutions passed 
on both sides, and to the ovei'tures which h ive 
since been m^ide by the re-united Presbyte- 
rian Church for their return, the Southern 
(General Assembly has replied "that tliey 
do not apijrove of a union with the Northern 
Church because it is a total surrender of all 
fiuidamental doL-trines, and embraces all 
shades of belief." "The Southern Church," 
tiiey .say, "is the only surviving heir of true, 
unfailing testimonies, and there are impassa- 
ble barriers to oHicial intercourse between 
the two churc'ics." 

Their daeirina! standards, and their church 
government and polity, are identical with 
that of the Northern church. 

Their statistics in 1870 were as follows : 
There were 1 1 synod-, 55 presbyteries, 8 M) 
ordained ministers, 52 licentiates, and 161 
candidates, for lic<;nsure; 1.46'J churches, 
82,014 members re|)ort'd (2 MJ churches dd 
not report the number of memlx-rs); 5.018 
members added on examination, and 2,851 



on certificate; 1,529 adults, and 3,5.')5 chil- 
dren baptized ; 47,317 Sunday School schol- 
ars, $^72,335 contributed to benevolent ob- 
jects and church expenses. 

III. United Presbyterian Church 
OF North America. The body bearing 
this name in the United States is entirely 
different in its origin from IIk; United Pres- 
byterian Church of Sco'land and Canada, 
though holding luuirly the same views of 
doctrine and polity. The Scottish United 
Presbyterian Church is compo.'sed of the 
United Secession Church (itself a coalition 
of the Burgher and Anti-lUirgher Synods) 
and the Relief church, both secessions Irom 
the established Kirk of Scotland on the 
ground of its corruption in doctrine and prac- 
tice, and its enforcement of the set lenient 
of ministers named by the heritors or aris- 
tocracy, against the will of the people These 
two organizations came togt.'ther and formed 
the Scottish United Presbyterian Church 
(which has a large and efficient branch in 
Canada) in 1847. The United Pre.-^byte- 
rian Church, in the United States, was con- 
stituted in 1858 by the union of the Asso- 
ciate Reformed, and the Associate Presby- 
terian churches. Of these two bodies, the 
formi'r was an agglomeration of small bodies 
of Covenanters, As,sociates, Ref)i-med. and 
Purgher Presbyteiians, which came together 
in I 782 and formed a svnod composed of three 
f)resbyteries at Philadelphia. In 18i)3 they 
had increased so as to form four ])rovin('ial 
synods, N -w York, Pennsylvania, S(;ioto. and 
the Carolinas, under one represent itive gen- 
eral .«ynod. Two of these provincial .synods 
(.Scioto and the Carolinas) afterward be.'ame 
independent. The "Associate Presbyterian 
Church " had a somewhat similar history 
though it retained its allegiance to the Scot- 
tish synod of the church of the same riaine 
until 1818. It had had several small sices- 
sions from its ranks, which have since formed 
small presbyterian bodies. At the time of 
the union of these two churches in the United 
Presbyterian Church, in l^i58, a few churches 
and ministers })rotested against the union, 
and have since connected themselves with 
.some of the smaller organizations. 'J'he 
United Presbyterian Chnrch has two col- 
leges, two academies and theological semin- 
aries at Alleghany, I'enn., Xenia. Oiiio, Mun- 
mouih, Illinois, and Newburgh, New York. 
Its statistics in 1870 were: 8 .synods, 56 
presbyteries, 553 ordai''el minis' 'rs, 43 li- 
centiates, 55 students for the mmi-tiy, 720 



516 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



congregations, 60,807 members, of whom 
4,182 were received on profession, and 3,935 
on certificate ; 609 Subbatli Schools were 
reported with 6,761 officers and teachers, 
and 42,907 scholars. The total contribu- 
tions to benevolent and church purposes 
were $827,126. The denomination have 
5 foreign missions, 19 foreign mission sta- 
tions, 1 2 mission churches, 26 missionaries 
and helpers, and contributed, in 1870, $63,- 
500 for foreign missionary purposes. They 
have also successful Home Mission and 
Freedmen's Mission Boards, and expended 
on them $49,48 1 , in 1870. The net increase 
of members in 1 870, over the previous year, 
was 4,183, but the number of ministers had 
decreased by 12. The contributions were 
about $43,300 more than the previous year. 
IV. General Synod of THii Reform- 
ed Presbyterian Church. This body 
in its present organization, originated in 
1782 from the ministers of the Reformed 
Presbyterian church who refused to consent 
to the union with the Associate Church and 
mainta'ned their original organization. These 
were subsequently strengthened by the ar- 
rival of several ministers of the Reformed 
Presl)yterian Church of Scotland in 1793, 
and subsequently. They were organized 
into a eynod of three presbyteiies in 1808, 
and in 1825 constituted a general synod. 
Their doctrines are those of the Westminster 
Assembly's Confession of Faith and Cate- 
chisms, with the addition of the Declaration 
and Testimony, in which they express their 
hostility to the interference of civil govern- 
ment with the affairs of the church, and their 
unwillingness to be bound by it in matters 
of conscience. On this point there has been 
a division among them, and a secession has 
resulted. The Refoi'med Presbyterian Church 
are the lineal and spiritual successors of the 
Covenanters or Cameronians, and like them 
have protested earnestly and steadily against 
a State church and the interference of the 
State with their ministry and their religious 
privileges. Even in the last century they 
were persecuted for these views in Scotland, 
and it was natural that they should adhere 
to them with the greater tenacity, but in this 
country wliere tlie State did not interfere 
^vith religious worship, and there was no 
established church, many of the ministers of 
the Reformed Presbyterian Church felt that 
there was no necessity for maintaining that 
hostility or non-intercourse with the civil 
government which, under the circumstances, 



in Scotland, was right and proper ; and tliey 
accordingly participated, as citizens, in ^ oting 
and in such civil duties as they deemed right, 
while protesting against all interference of 
the civil power in matters of conscience. They, 
Uke all the Reformed Presbyterians, were 
strongly opposed to slavery, and would have 
no communion with slaveholders or those who 
defended slavery. A part of their ministers, 
whose feelings on the subjects of the civil 
power were intense, and who regarded our 
national constitution and government as in- 
fidel and Godless, withdrew from the Gen- 
eral Synod on these grounds in 1833 and 
formed a separate organization which is now 
somewhat more numerous than the General 
Synod. All the Reformed Presbyterians 
refuse to use any other than inspired hymns 
and psalms in their worship, and for the 
want of any more literal metrical translation 
of the Psalms of David sing from Rouse's 
version of the Psalms, which, though rough 
and often imcouth in its translation, has the 
merit of following very closely the inspired 
original. The number of ministers of the 
General Synod in 1870 was 31, of churches 
43, and of members about 4,000. 

V. The Synod of the Reformed Pres- 
byterian Church, referred to above, which 
seceded in 1833, is now much larger than 
the General Synod, having, in 1870, 87 
churches, 86 ministers, 8,577 members, re- 
ceived 435 by profession and 288 by certifi- 
cate, and expended for benevolent purposes 
and church expenses about $144,000. 

VI. The Associate Reformed Synod 
OF THE South, is the original Associate Re- 
formed Synod of the Carolinas, Avhich, in 
1821, became an independent synod and re- 
fusing to follow the other associate reformed 
churches in their union with the Associate 
Presbyterians to form the United Presby- 
terian church, has exi.-ted as a distinct bod}^ 
It is small in numbers. It does not differ in 
doctrine from the Associate Reformed Church 
or the Reformed Presbyterians, except on 
the subject of slavery, which it tolerated in 
its membership. Its growth was very slight 
fur some years, but from 1842 to 1852 it 
increased quite rapidly; since 1863 there has 
been a decided falling off; twenty-six of its 
ministers, and some of the churches, having 
joined other Presbyterian bodies. In 1870, 
its statistics were : ordained ministers, 57 ; 
probationers, 7 ; theological students, 6 ; 
churches, 66 ; members, about 6,-' 00. They 
liuve a small theological school at Due West, 



HISTORY AND PUOGRKSS OF THK IMFFEUKNT DKXOMINATIONS. 



5' 7 



S. C, and the organ of the church, The As- 
sociate Reformed Preshyterian, is published 
at the same place. 

VII. Tin: CuMBKULANO Presbyterian 
Church. This body is Presbyterian in its 
church government and polity but ditlers 
from the other Presbyterian churches in its 
doctrines. It had its origin in the great re- 
vival in Kentucky and Tennessee in 1790 
to 1803. Tliat revival was mostly among a 
]K'ople nominally attached to the Presby- 
terian Church, and in the camp meetings 
uliich the scattered population rendered 
nicessary, there was a pressing demand lor 
a greater number of ordained ministers to 
preach and to administer the ordinanc! s. 
Under this demand some of the memlicrs of 
the newly organized Cumberland Presbytery, 
felt that it woidd be desirable to s^eleet m n 
of pii'ty, promise, and a fair education, from 
the laity, and license and ordain them for 
tlie work of the mini>try. 'J his was accord- 
ingly done in a few instances with good re- 
sults. The Synod of Kentucky, however, 
regarded tliis proceeding as irregular and 
])asse(l a resolution requiring the presbytery 
to present them for examination to a com- 
mission of the synod, and directing the young 
men to appear. Both the presbytery and 
tie young men refused to submit tj this ex- 
amination, and the Synod, in 18U5, in con- 
Sfupience prohibited them from exercising 
iXm functions of the ministry. The proscrib- 
ed ministers, however, continued in the ex- 
ercise of their ministerial duties, and after in 
vain appealing to the Synod for a repeal of 
their action, there was organized, in 1810, 
in Dickson County, Tennessee, a Cumber- 
land Presbytery entirely independent of the 
Nynod, and of the Presbyterian Church. 
Tiie special difference betwe.'n them and the 
Kentucky Synod is thus set forth in the 
record of their constitution : "All candidates 
for the ministry who may hereafter be licens- 
ed by this presbytery, and all the licentiates 
or probationers who may hereafter be or- 
dained by tliis presl)ytery, shall be required 
before such licensure and ordination, to re | 
cciveand accept the Confession of Faith and | 
Discipline of the Presbyterian Ciiurch, ex- 
C'pt the i<lea of fatality that seems to be I 
tauglit under tlie mysterious doctrine of pre- 
destination. It is to be understood, however, 
that such as can clearly receive the Confes- 
si )ri of Faith without an exception, wid not 
be required to make any. Moreover, all 
licentiate's, before they ai'c set apart to the ' 



whole work of the ministry, or ordained, 
shall be recjuired to undergo an examination 
in English grammar, geography, astronomy, 
natural an<l moral philosophy, and church 
history. It will not be understood that ex- 
aminations in experimental religion and 
theology will be omitted. The presbytery 
may also require an examination on any 
part or all of the above branches of knowl- 
edge before licensure, if they deem it expe- 
dient." 

The growth of this new organization was 
rapid; in 1813 they liftd three large presby- 
teries, and a synod was ibrmed in October 
of that year. A committee was ap|iointed 
immediately by this Synod to prepare a Con- 
fession of Faith, Catechism, and form of 
Church Government. These, when reported, 
were adopted at a subsequent session, and 
remain unchanged to the present time. As 
would be infei-red from the constitution of 
the Presbyteiy just quoted, their doctrines 
are less strongly Calvinistic than those of 
the Presbyteiians generally. Rev. Dr. 
Beard, formerly President of Cumberland 
College, Princeton, Ky., thus sununarizes 
their doctiines: ''That the Scriptures ac 
the only infallible rule of faith and practice ; 
that God is an infinite, eternal, and un- 
changeable Spirit, existing mysterioiisly in 
three persons, the three being e<[ual in power 
and glory ; that God is the creator and pre- 
server of all things ; that the decrees of God 
extend only to wliat is for His glory ; that 
He has not decreed the existence of sin, be- 
cause it is neither for His glory nor for the 
good of His creatures ; that man was created 
upright in the image of God ; but that, by 
the transgression of the federal head, he has 
become totally depraved, so much so that he 
can do no good thing without the aid of di- 
vine grace. That Jesus Christ is the medi- 
ator between God and man ; and that he is 
both God and man in one person ; that he 
obeyed the law jierfectly, and died on the 
cross to make satisfaction for sin ; and that 
in the expressive language of the apostle. He 
tasted death for every man. That tlie Holy 
Spirit is the efficient agent in our conviction, 
regeneration, and sanctification ; that repent- 
ance and faith are necessary in order to ac- 
ceptance, and that both are inseparable from 
a change of heart; that justification is by 
faith alone; that sanctification is a jirogress- 
ive work and not completed till death; that 
those who believe in Christ, and are regen- 
erated by His spirit vviU never fall away and 



51S 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF TFIE DIFFERENT DEXOMIXATIONS. 



be lost ; that there will be a genei-al I'esur- 
rection and judgment ; and that the righte- 
ous will be received to everlasting happiness, 
and the wicked consigned to everlasting 
misery." 

The church polity of the Cumberland 
Presbyter an church does not differ from 
that of the Presbyterian church ; it has its 
teaching and ruling elders, its sessions, 
presbyteries, synods, and since 1829 a Gen 
ei-al Assembly ; but as a matter of conven- 
ience, they have adopted the itinerant system 
of tlie Methodists, and have many of their 
churches arranged in circuits. They practice 
infant baptism, and in the baptism of adults, 
immerse, sprinlile, or pour as the candidate 
prefers. They have a university, and two 
colleges, two tlieological seminaries, and a 
number of academies of high grade. Their 
Boaid of Publication has a small capital, 
about S7,0Ui), but is very efficient. They 
publish tliree or four periodicals. Their 
statistics in 1(S70 were estimated by their own 
organs as follows: 25 synods, 100 presbyte- 
ries, l(i74 ordained ministers, 280 licentiate-, 
320 candidates for the ministry, about 2,000 
chuiches, and over 80,000 memi)ers. Nearly 
10,000 connnunicants were added to the 
church in 1 870. 

VIII. The Reformed (late Dutob) 
Church. This is the olde-t, though by no 
means the largest of the Protestant churches 
in the United States, being an offshoot of 
the Reformed Church of Holland, and first 
planted in New Amsterdam, now New York 
City, in li514, though no church was fidly 
Oiganized before 1(328. Its gi'owth was slow 
for 1.30 years, being confined almost exclu- 
sively to the Dutch speaking portion of the 
citizens, and its pulpit exercises being entirely 
in DuLcli until near the commencement of 
the present century. It was dependent upon 
the church in Holland for the education and 
ordination of its ministry until 1771, Avhen 
thiough the efibrts of Rev. Dr. Livingston, 
the Classis of Amsterdam, with which all 
the chuiches here were connected, recom- 
mended tln.'m to organize as an independent 
church and make provision for the education 
of their ministry. Queen's (afterward Rut- 
ger's) College, at New Brunswick, was 
founded about 1770, and a professorship of 
theology (at first separate from the college) 
establi.-^iied in New York, with Dr. Livings- 
ton as professor, in 1784. After the general 
sul)siituti()n of English for Dutch in the 
preaching of its ministers, the church began |^ 



to grow and has maintained a prominent 
position in New York, New Jersey, and 
Eastern Pennsylvania, where alone they 
have any considerable membership. They 
have outside of these states 52 churches, 
mostly in Michigan, Illinois, and Wisconsin, 
and fifteen on mi sionary ground in India. 

The doctrines of the Reformed chun h, as 
laid down in the Belgic confession, the Hei- 
delbeig catechism, and the Canons of the 
synod of Dort, do not vary in any important 
point from those of the Westminstf r confes- 
sion of faith and catechisms, and are properly 
reckoned among the Calvimstc confessions 
of faith. The polity of the church is also 
Presbyterian, though with different names 
for the same things. The Consisto7-y, which 
answers to the chuich session in the l^resby- 
terian church, is composed of the dominie or 
pastor, the elders, and the deacons. The 
elders are chosen for two years, and after an 
interval of a year may be again elected. 
The classis answers to the pre-bytery, and 
the particular synods to the synods of the 
Presbyterian church, while they have a 
General Synod instead of a General Assem- 
bly. They are active in their missionary 
enterprises, having missions in Amoy, China, 
and its vicinity, and in Arcot, India. Until 
1857 they were connected in these mission- 
ary enterprises with the American Board of 
Commissioners for Foreign Missions, but in 
that year they withdrew amicably and have 
since conducted them successfully alone, and 
have added a mission in Japan. They have 
an old and flourishing college (Rutger's) at 
New Brunswick, and a Theological seminary 
at the same place. They have a publish ng 
establishment which issues four periodicals, 
and the denominational Psalmody and other 
books. 

Their statistics for 1870 were, one Gene- 
ral Sjnod, eight particular synods, 33 classes, 
464 churches, 493 ministers, and 5 candidates, 
38,552 families, 61,444 member-:, 3421 in- 
fants and 974 adults baptized, 3,628 received 
on confession, and 2,294 by certificate, 48,- 
411 Sunday School scholars. Benevolent 
contributions, $1,187,681.63, including those 
for congregational purposes. In 1868 the 
different classes voted to drop the word 
Dutch from their title, and be henceforth 
known as The Reformed Church. 

IX. The True Reformed Dutch 
Church. In 1822 Rev. Solomon Froeligh, 
D. D., of Hackensack, and a \'e\v other min- 
isters seceded, with their congregations, from 



HISTORY AND PROGKESS OF THE DIFFKItKNT DENG IIX.VTIOXS. 



519 



the Reformed (Dutch) Church on the alleged 
ground of the prevailing laxness in doctrine 
and discipline, and organized a church with 
tlie above title. It has made very little prog- 
ress, but had in 18G2 less than 20 congrega- 
tions, and about loOO members. 

X. The Reformed Church in the 
United States, (late German). This, the 
last though by no means the least of the Amer- 
ican churches which contbrm to the Presby- 
terian polity though they do not bear the 
Presbyterian name, is a descendant, though 
with some modilications of doctrine, of the 
Reformed chuiches of Holland, Germany, 
France, and Switzerland. Rev. Dr. E. V. 
Gerhart, the Presitlent of its General Synod, 
and its principal historiographer, states that 
the iirst members of the Reformed Church 
of Germany, who came to the United States 
in any considerable numbers, were a body 
of Palatines, who tenipted by William Penn's 
offer of lands, migiated to Pennsylvania and 
the adjacent colonies, in the early part of 
tlie eighteenth century, and many of whom 
settled east of the Susquehanna. It was 
among a colony of about 400 of these Pala- 
tines who settled in Montgomery county, 
Penn., about 1727, that Rev. Michael Weiss, 
one of their numb'-r. organized the first Ger- 
man Reformed Church. In the twenty yeass 
which followed, they were without ministers, 
teachers, or church organizations except this 
parent church, and though they had nearly 
thirty thousand of their people, mostly speak- 
ing German only, within a moderate circuit, 
they were like sheep witliout a shepherd. 
Rev. Michael Schlatter, a German Reformed 
minister from St. Gall, Switzerland, came 
over in 174(5 as a missionary from the syn- 
ods of North and South Holland, to look 
after iheir welfare. A man of great energy, 
skill, and judgment, hesucceeded,aftera time, 
in evoking order from this chaos. He or- 
ganized churcfies, administered the sacra- 
ments, loi-ated pastors, established schools, 
and at the end of a year and a half, in Sep- 
tember, 1747, was able to form the first 
synod or coetus of the German Reformed 
Church, consisting of five ministers, and 
twenty- six elders, who represented forty six 
churches, and a population of thirty thou- 1 
sand. He then returned to Europe and 
succeeded in creating a large fund, the inter- 
est of which was devoti'd to sustaining min- 
isters and scliool teachers among these peo- 
ple, and brought back with him to America 
five young ministers, and the promise of a 



number more. This first coetus or synod 
was, like the Reformed Dutch church, subor- 
dinate to the chissis of Amsterdam, until 
1793, when it resolved to become independ- 
ent, the number of churche- liaving increased 
to one hundred and fifty, though there were 
yet but twenty-two ordained ministers. On 
becoming independent, the coetus became 
the synod, and the cliurch took the name of 
The High German Reformed Church in dis- 
tinction from the Low Gei'man or Dutch 
Reformed Church. There was yet a great 
scarcity of ministers, and as they had no 
college or theological seminary, it was found 
imi)ossible to educate their ministiy thor- 
oughly, and many errors and irregularities 
crept into the church. Tlie standard of 
faith in the Reformed German church was 
like that of its Holland sister, the lleidel- 
bern^ catechism, but unlike the Dutch church, 
it did not adopt the Belgic confession or the 
canons of the synod of Dort. as defining the 
sense in which the postulates of the cate- 
chism should be held. The rationalism 
which during the years ITr'O-lSSO was per- 
vading so many of the German churclies, 
was not without its effect here ; and this 
effect was produced more readily because 
the services of the church were conducted 
wholly in German until 1825. Af;er a long 
struggle, a tlieological seminary was estab- 
lished in 1824, and after two or tln-ee re- 
movals, finally located at INIercer.-burg, Pa., 
in 18-35. A rel gious periodical in Englisli 
was established in 1828, and one in German 
in 183G. In 1830 a high school was estab- 
lished at York, which was removed to 
Mercer.sburg in 1835, and in 1830 became 
Marshall College. Seventeen years later 
(1853) it was consolidated with Franklin 
College at Lancaster, and removed to that 
city. The influence of the theological school, 
under the hands of its able professors Neviu, 
Ranch, Schatf, and Gerhart, was felt in crys- 
talizing the church into a unity of doctrine 
and faith which was greatly in contrast with 
its previous history. JNot that there were 
no dissidents ; in their own rank> tliere were 
two i)arties who opposed thelNIercersburg phi- 
losophy and theology, as it began to be called ; 
those whose sympathies were with the IMeth- 
odist church, and for whom it was too Cal- 
vinistic, and those who adhered to the Belgic 
confession and the canons of the synod of 
Do t, or rather went beyond them in their 
higher Calvinistic leanings. There was also 
strong oppositioH manifested to the avowal 



520 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OP THE DIFPERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



boldly made by the Mercersburg theologians 
that the Church of Rome, despite its many 
errors, was a part of the Church of Christ, 
and that Protestantism was a historical con- 
tinuation of the Church Catholic ; opposition 
also came from without to the-e views ; but 
on the wliole they may be safely asserted to 
be the views to-day of the great majority of 
t!iat church. It is a cardinal point in this 
theology that the Apostle's Creed gives form 
and vitality to the doctrines of the Heidel- 
berg catechism ; and that any explanation of 
the catechism which leaves this out of the 
account is defective, and unsound. Rev. Dr. 
Gerhart thus summarizes the views held by 
the Mercersburg theologians as thus deduced 
from the catechism : 

"1. Adam, created in the image of God, 
was endowed with capacity to resist tempta- 
tion and abide in his original state of life — 
communion with God ; but he transgressed 
the command of God by a free act of his 
own will thiough the instigation of the devil, 
the head of the kingdom of darkness. 

2. The fall of Adam was not that of an 
individual only, but the fall of the human 
race. 

3. All men are born with the fallen 
nature of Adam, and are thus under the 
power of the kingdom of darkness, inclined 
to all evil, and unapt to any good ; and are 
subject to the wrath of God, who is terribly 
displeased with their inborn as well as actual 
sins, and will punish them in just judgment 
in time and in eternity. 

4. The Eternal Law of God, incarnate 
by the Holy Ghost of the Virgin Mary, true 
God and true man in one person, is the prin- 
ciple and substance of the new creation. 

5. In the mystery of the Word made 
flesh, the humanity which the Son of Ct0(I 
assumed into organic and eternal union with 
Himself, is tlie most perfect of sujiernatural 
revelation, and the only medium of Divine 
grace. 

6. All the acts of Christ are not those of 
God or of man separately taken, but the 
acts of the God-man. 

7. His bai)tism, fasting, and temptation ; 
His miracles and His word ; His agony, 
passion, and death ; His descent into Hades ; 
His re-urrection from the dead, ascension to 
heaven, and session at the right hand of 
God; the coming of the Holy Ghost, and 
His second advent — all derive their signifi- 
eance and savini; virtue from the mysterious 
constitution of his person. 



8. The atonement for the sin of man is 
the reconciliation of God and fallen humanity 
in the person and work of Jesus Christ. It 
is not sim[)ly the offering of himself on the 
cross, but the whole process of resuming hu - 
man nature into life communion with God, 
and includ(^s both perfect satisfaction to the 
law by suffering the penalty and all the con- 
sequences of sin, and complete victory ovrr 
the devil. The full benefit of the atonement 
im;res to the believer, because by faith he is 
a member of Christ, and a partaker of his 
anointing, and thus stands before God in the 
life and righteousness of Christ. 

9. The Church constituted by the coming 
of the Holy Ghost, is the mystical body of 
Christ, a new, real, and objective order of 
existence, and is both supernatural and nat- 
ural, divine and human, heavenly and earthly 
the fulness of him that filleth all in all ; in 
whose communion alone there is redemption 
fiom sin, and all its consequences, fellowship 
with God in Christ, and the hope of com- 
plete victory over death and hell, and of 
eternal glory. The relation which the new 
1 egenerated humanity, His mystical body, 
bears to Christ the head, the second Adam, 
is analogous to the organic relation which 
the old, fallen, accursed humanity bears to 
the first Adam. 

10. The sacraments are visible, holy 
signs and seals, wherein God by an objective 
transaction, confirms to sinners the promise 
of the Gospel. They are the means, whereby 
men through the power of the Holy Ghost 
are made partakers of the substance of di- 
vine grace, that is of Christ and all his ben- 
efits. 

11. Holy baptism is a divine transaction, 
wherein the subject is washed with the 
blood and spirit of Christ from all the pollu- 
tion of his sins as certainly as he is washed 
outwardly with water ; that is, he is renewed 
hy the Holy Ghost, and sanctified to be a 
member of Christ, that so he may more and 
more die unto sin, and lead a holy and un- 
blamable life. 

12. Baptized persons do not attain unto 
the resuiTection of the dead and eternal life 
in virtue simply of holy baptism, but only 
on the condition that, improving the grace 
of baptism, they believe from the heart on 
Christ, die unto sin daily, and lead a holy 
life, and thus realize the full virtue of the 
incarnation and atonement. 

13. The sacrament of the holy supper is 
the abiding memorial of the sacrifice of our 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



621 



blessed Saviour, Jesus Christ, for our sins, 
upon the cross ; the seal of his perpetual 
presence in the church by the Holy (lliost; 
the mystical exhibition of his one offering of 
himself nuulc once, but ot force always to 
put away sin; the pledge of his undying 
love to his people, and the bond of his living 
union and i'ellowshii) with them to the end 
of time. In the use of this sacrament, be- 
lieving coimnuuicants do not only commem- 
orate his j)rccious death as the one all-sulfi- 
cient, vicarious sacrifice for their sins, but 
Christ himself also, with his crucified body 
and shed blood, feeds and nourishes their 
souls to everlasting life ; that is, by this visi- 
ble sign and pledge he assures them that 
they an; really partakers of his true body 
and blood, through the working of the Holy 
Ghost, as they receive, by the mouth of the 
bod}^, these holy tokens in remembrance of 
him. 

14. The bread and wine of the holy 
supper are not transmuted into the very body 
and very blood of Christ, but continue to be 
natural bread and wuie ; nor is the body and 
blood ol Clii ist consubstantial, that is, in, with, 
and under the natural bread and wine, but 
the sacrimental transaction is a holy mystery, 
in which the full life-giving and saving virtue 
of Christ, mediated through his humanity, is 
really present by the supernatural power of 
the Holy Ghost, and communicated to them 
who, by true faith, eat and drink worthily, 
discerning the Lord's body. 

15. At death the righteous pass into a 
state of joy and felicity and abide in rest and 
peace until they reach their consummation 
of redemption and bliss, in the glorious res- 
urrection of the last day. 

16. The second advent of Christ to judge 
the woild in righteousness, will complete the 
objective order of redemption, and also the 
subjec ive process of life and salvation in 
his body, the chui-ch ; when the last enemy, 
which is death, shall be destroyed ; when 
the saints shall comn forth from the dead in 
the full image of their risen Lord, and with 
Him pass into heaven, tlie state of perfect 
blessedness, and the wicked shall rise to the 
resurrection of eternal damnation." 

On |)oints of doctrine not directly connected 
with the foregoing statements. Dr. Gerhart 
gives the fbllowii g siunmary of the belief 
of the Reformed Church. 

" Tlie church alliiins that the person of 
Christ is tlie true j)rinciple of sound theol- 
ogy ; that Christianity is a new life, that the 



I humanity of Christ is an essential constituent 
of Christianity ; that the Christian church is 
an organic continuation in time and space of 
I the life powers of the new creation in Christ 
Jesus ; that the covenant is an order or in- 
stitution of grace, spiritual and real; that 
the Bible was written by members of the 
church under plenary inspiraticm of the Holy 
Ghost; that private judgment is subordinate 
to the general judgment of the church as 
expressed particularly in the Ecumenical 
creeds ; that the AVord of God is the only 
form of faith and practice, and is superior 
to all creeds and confessions ; that the indi- 
vidual comes to a right apprehension of the 
contents of the Bible through the teaching 
of the church; that the election of grace 
unto life is effectual in and by the established 
economy of grace ; that justification is by 
an act of faith in the person and work of 
Christ ; and consists both in the imputation 
and impartation of Christ and his righteous- 
ness ; that holy baj)tism is the sacrament of 
regeneration, regeneration being the transi- 
tion from the state of nature to the state of 
grace, as natural I)irth is the transition to the 
natural world ; that regeneration succeeded 
by conversion and sanctification completes 
itself in the resurrection from the dead, in- 
asmuch as regeneration and salvation pertain 
to the entire man, the body no less than the 
soul ; that believers only hold communion 
with Christ in the Lord's Sui)per ; that the 
ordinary, divinely ordained means of grace 
are adequate to all the needs of the church 
and the world, and if faithfully used do not 
fail to promote a steady and vigorous growth 
of the church ; that although the church of 
Rome holds many articles of faiih, and ap- 
proves and perpetuates many customs which 
are not warranted by the Scriptures and are 
wrong, she is nevertheless a part of the 
church of Christ ; and that Protestantism is 
a historical continuation of the Church Cath- 
olic, in a new and higher form of faith, or- 
ganization, and practice." 

As to its worship the Reformed Church 
was originally liturgical and though extem- 
poraneous prayer has prevailed duiing the 
most of the present century in the regular 
services of the Lord's Day, there is now a 
strong tendency to revert to its former litur- 
gical service. After repeated trials and the 
most careful revision and modifications, the 
sucessive liturgical committees of the Gen- 
eral and the Eastern Synods have jierfected 
an " Order of worship (including a liturgy) 



522 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DfrFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



for the Reformed Church" which was pub- 
lished in 1H(j6, and has been adopted in most 
of the churclies of the Eastern synod, and 
in some of those of the Western synods. It 
is gaining ground and will probably be event- 
ually the established book of worship for the 
entii-e church. 

The government of the church is strictly 
Presbyterian. The consistory, answering to 
the church session, is composed of the pas- 
tor, elders and deacons. Both elders and 
deacons are chosen by the communicant 
members, for a term of two, thiee, or four 
years, generally two years, and ordained by 
laying on of hands and installed. When 
the term expires, the administrative power 
ceases, but not the office. If reelected, in- 
stallation is repeated, but not ordination. 
The classls is the first church court above 
the church, and consists of the ministers 
and an elder from each parish within a given 
distri( t. The classes are subject to the 
synod, which is composed of a given number 
of ministers and elders, chosen by four or 
more adjacent clashes. The synods are sub- 
ject to the Gi-neral Synod, which consists of 
ministers and elders chosen by all the classes 
of the church. Appeals to the General 
Synod may be taken from any of the lower 
church CO irts. Infant baptism is faithfully 
and universally o!)served. All the children 
and youth are carefully catechised by the 
pastor once in two weeks or oftener, for a 
period of from three to nine months in the 
year. Catechumens possessing the requisite 
qualifications are, after examination in pres- 
ence of the elders, received into the full com- 
munion of the church by the rite of confirm- 
ation. The holy communion is commonly 
administered twice a year, and in many of 
the churches four times. The communicants 
receive the sacred emblems by companies, 
standing arovmd the altar. They observe 
the iestivais, Christmas, Good Friday, Easter, 
and Whit-Sunday with much solemnity. 

The statistics of the Reformed (German) 
Church for 1870, are as follows: one Gen 
eral Synod; four particular synods, viz: the 
Eastern, or as it is officially called, " The 
Synod of the Reformed Church in the United 
States" ; " The Synod of Ohio, and adjacent 
States" ; " The Synod of the Reformed 
Church in the Northwest," and the '' Pitts- 
burg Synod of the Reformed Church"; 
thirty one classes, 526 ministers, 1179 con- 
gregations, 2 1 7.9 10 members, of whom, how- 
ever, only 9G,728 are communicants, the 



remainder being baptized children and uncon- 
firmed members; 12,776 were baptized, 
7,068 confirmed, and 3,592 received on cer- 
tificate. The number of Sunday Schools 
reported is 1,019, and of Sunday School 
scholars 49,960. The amount of benevolent 
contributions, exclusive of those for congre- 
gational purposes, was $76,453. There are 
2 theological seminaries, one at Mercersburg, 
Pa., with 4 professors, and 28 students ; the 
other at Tiffin, Ohio, with two i)rofessors, 
and 20 students ; a mission house at She- 
boygan, Wisconsin, with 3 professors, and 22 
students. There are two fully organized 
colleges, Franklin and Marshall, at Lancas- 
ter, Pa., and Heidelberg College at Tiffin, 
Ohio. There are also seven classical insti- 
tut ons, most of them called colleges, five of 
them in Pa., one in North Carolina, and one 
in Ohio ; and two female seminaries, one at 
Allentown, Pa., the other at Tyrconnell, 
Maryland. They have eleven periodicals, 
two quarterly (reviews), four weekly, and 
one semi-monthly newspapers; a monthly 
magazine, and three monthly Sunday School 
papers. There are two printing establish- 
ments, one at Philadelphia, tlie other at 
Cleveland, Ohio. 



V. METHODISTS. 

I. The Methodist Episcopal Church. 

No denomination, in modern times, has 
had so rapid a growth as the Methodists. 
Numbering in its various divisions over two 
million of communicants, and having an ad- 
herent po^julation of nearly eight millions, it 
seems almost incredible that the first Meth- 
odist society was organized in New York 
City in 1766, and that they had no existence 
as a distinct church until 1784, when their 
connection with the Church of England, and 
with the Protestant Episcoi)al Church in 
this country, was formally dissolved, and 
Thomas Coke, who had received ordination 
as a Superintendent over the Methodist so- 
cieties in the United States at the hand of 
John Wesley ; and Francis Asbury, whom 
he had in turn ordained for the same office, 
met a conference of the Methodist Societies 
at Baltimore, and there assumed the title and 
position of " Bishops of the Me'hodist Epis- 
copal Church ni America." This act was 
displeasing to Mr. Wesley, who protested 
against it iu strong terms, and i)v. Coke, 



niSTOUY AND FU0GUK9S OF THE DIFKIiUKXT DKNOMIXATIONS. 



i23 



^vho subsequently returned to England, never 
atteni[)t(!(l to exeix'ise Episcopal functions 
there. Still the act was a ju<licions one, and 
led to the more rapid development of the 
great denomination which s])rung from such 
small beginnings. 

The history of the IMetliodist Episcopal 
Church has been one of almost constant suc- 
cess. There have been, indeed, secessions 
in considerable num])ers from its ranks, as 
there have from the Wesleyan Methodists of 
Great Britain, and some of these seceding 
bodies have themselves attained subsequently 
a large membership, but the seceders have 
not left the church on doctrinal grounds but 
on different views of church polity and dis- 
cipline. Tims the ''African IVIi'thodist Epis- 
eopal Church " withdrew, in 1787, on account 
of the pi-evailing prejudice against persons 
of color, and the " Zion African Methodist 
P2i)iseopal Church," in IH'iO, for the same 
reason. The '' Methodist Protestant Church" 
withdrew in 1830, on account of differences 
in regard to the episcopate and lay repre- 
sentation. '• The Wesleyan Methodist Con- 
nection of America" seceded in 1843, in 
consequence of a difference of views on slav- 
ery, temperance, and church government. 
"The IMeiiiodist Ei)isco[)al Church, South," 
by far the largest of the separating bodies, 
came off" in lrt4-l:, from dissatisfaction with 
tli«; action of the general Conference of that 
year, re(piiring Kev. J. O. Andrew, D. D., 
one of tlie bishops, to desist from the exer- 
cise of his episcopal functions on account of 
hi< being a slaveholder. Since 1844 there 
have been several secessions of small num- 
bers of churches which have generally be- 
come extinct or have returned to the cluirch 
in a few years. Tiie Free Methodists still 
remain separate, basing their withdrawal on 
their desire to return to the simplicity. ])lain- 
ness, and avuidance of display, either in di'ess 
or in the adornment of their churches, into 
which, as tiiey allege, the great body of 
3Ietholists have fallen. The marvelous 
growth of the IMethoilist Episcopal Church 
is not due to any very great extent, like that 
of the Roman Catholic Cluirch, to immigra- 
tion ; considerable numbers of Methodists 
have, indeeil, come here from (Treat liritain. 
Ireland, and latterly from Germany and 
Swcdei ; l)ut many of th'-se have gone into 
otlier though kindred denoiui ations. Its 
great increase has been due to the earnest 
and constant labors of its ministers, local 
preachers, and class leaders, to its strong 



spirit of propagandism, and to its remarkable 
adaptation as a religious system, to pioneer 
life, anil to the necessities of a new and only 
partially settled coimtry. Its triuin|)hs in 
the western states have l)een very great ; in 
several of the slates, and especially in Lufana 
and Iowa,its adherent j)opulati(ni are said to 
constitute nearly or quite one-half of the peo- 
ple of the state. Its organization for the pro- 
motion of its objects is very elficient. It main- 
tains in most of the large cities, and within 
convenient distance of each other, its denom- 
inational join-nals, owned by the General 
Conference, and advocating its measures. It 
has a book concern, which, after paying over 
one-third of its capital to the Metliodist Epis- 
copal Church, South, and dividing its surplus 
profits atnong the annual conferences for 
the support of enfeebled and superannuated 
preachers, and the widows and children of 
those who have died in the ministry, is still 
tlie largest pul)lishing house in America, 
having a net capital of $1,45S,.')75, and as- 
sets to the amount of $2,l)41>,r)-19 in 1870. 
Kvei'y itinerant minister is, by virtue of his 
position, a colporteur and propagandist for 
the sale and distril)ution of its publications. 
It has largely engaged in the Sunday School 
work, and through this means has greatly 
increased its membership. Its camp meet- 
ings, love feasts, classes, and otiier means of 
appealing to the emotional element in the 
nature of men, attract many to its worship 
and to its communion. The gradations in 
its ministerial service are admirably adapted 
to promote efficiency in its ni'.nistry. Tlie 
class-leader in charge of a smalt section of a 
church, for who-e spiritual growtli and wel- 
fare he is in some sen>e responsiljle, may, if 
he develops superior gifts become an ex- 
horter; the exhorter in turn may develop 
into a local preacher, or into an itinerant or 
circuit preaclier, passing through his proba- 
tion of the diaconate ; tlie itinerant can look 
forward to becoming a presiding elder over 
the churches of a District ; and from the 
ranks of these come the editors of the de- 
nominational journals, the man-igers or 
agents of the book concern and its br;inches, 
and the Bishops. These last have varied 
and arduous labors to perform, and are liable 
to break down from over-work. Tliey have 
no dioceses like the bishops of the Roman 
Catholic, Episcopal, and INloravian churches, 
but are, in the true sense of the word, bish- 
ops, — episcopoi, — overseers, of the whole 
church. They visit and preside over the 



524 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE MFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



annual conferences, assign, in council with 
the presiding elders, to the itinerants their 
charges, visit the missionary fields, superin- 
tend and manage, in connection with the 
other othcei's, the Mi-^sionary, Sunday School, 
and publishing institutions of the church, and 
constitute, either singly or together, a high 
court of appeal — in the interim of the ses- 
sions of the Quadrennial Conference — in 
matters of cluirch polity and discipline, and 
in those appertaining to the property or 
finances of the church. 

The college of bishops, when full, has now 
ten members ; but since the Quadrennial 
Conference of 18G8, three, Bishops Thom- 
son, Kingsley, and Clark, have died, and two 
others are in such feeble health as to be ca- 
pable of very little labor. 

The following statement of the doctrines 
of the Methodist Episcopal Church is slightly 
abridged from a declaration of their doc- 
trines, made by Rev. Abel Stevens, D. D., 
LL. D., the historian of Methodism, and one 
of their ablest writei-s. 

The doctrines of the Methodist Episcopal 
Church are contained in twenty-five articles, 
and are as follows : 1. There is but one 
living and true Gol, everlasting, without 
body or parts, of infinite power, wisdom and 
goodness, the maker of all things visible and 
ijivisible. And in unity of this Godhead, 
there are three jiersons, of one substance, 
power and eternity — the Father, the Son, 
and the Holy Ghost. 2. The Son, who is 
the Word of the Father, the very and eter- 
nal God, of one substance with the Father, 
took man's nature in the womb of the blessed 
Virgin ; so that two whole and perfect na- 
tures, that is to say, the Godhead and man- 
hood, were joined together in one person, 
never to be divided, whereof is one Christ, 
very God and very man, who truly suffered, 
was crucified, dead and buried, to reconcile 
his Father to us, and to be a sacrifice, not 
only for original guilt but also for the actual 
sins of men. 3. Christ did truly rise again 
from the dead, and took again his body, with 
all things appertaining to the perfection of 
man's nature, wherewith he ascended to 
heaven, and there sitteth until he return to 
judge all men at the last day. 4. The Holy 
Ghost, proceeding from the Father and the 
Son, is of one substance, majesty, and glory, 
with the Fatlier and the Son, very and eter- 
nal God. 5. The holy Scriptures contain 
all things necessary to salvation ; so that 
whatsoever is not read tlierein, nor may be 



proved thereby, is not required of any man, 
that it should be believed as an m'ticle of 
faith, or be thought requisite or necessary to 
salvation. By the Holy Scriptures we do 
understand those canonical books of the Old 
and New Testaments of whose authority was 
never any doubt in the church. 9. The Old 
Testament is not contrary to the New, for 
both in the Old and New Testament ever- 
lasting life is offered to mankind by Christ, 
who is the only mediator between God and 
man, being both God and man. Wherefore 
they are not to be heard who feign that the 
old fathers did look only for transitory prom- 
ises. Although the law given from God by 
Moses, as touching ceremonies and rites, doth 
not bind Christians, nor ought the civil pre- 
cepts thereof of necessity to be received in 
any commonwealth, yet notwithstanding, no 
Christian whatever is free from the obedience 
of the commandments which are called moral. 
7. Original sin standeth not in the following 
of Adam, as the Pelagians do vainly talk, but 
it is the corruption of the nature of every 
man that is naturally engendered of the off- 
spring of Adam, whereby man is very far 
gone from original righteousness, and of his 
own nature inclined to evil, and that contin- 
ually. 8. The condition of man after the 
fall of Adam is such, that he cannot turn and 
prepare himself, by his own natural strength 
and works, to faith and calling upon God ; 
wherefore we have no power to do good 
works, pleasant and acceptable to God, with- 
out the grace of God by Christ preventing 
us, that we may have a good will, and work- 
ing with us when we have that good will. 
9. We are accounted righteous before God, 
only for the merit of our Lord and Saviour 
Jesus Christ by faith, and not for our own 
works or deservings ; wherefore, that we are 
justified by faith only, is a most wholesome 
doctrine and very full of comfort. 10. Al- 
though good works which are the fruits of 
faith, and follow after justification, cannot 
put away our sins, and endure the severity 
of God's judgments, yet are they pleasing 
and acceptable to God in Christ, and spring 
out of a true and lively faith, insomuch that 
by them a lively faith may be as evidently 
known as a tree is discerned by its fruit. 
11. Voluntary works, beside, over and above 
God's commandments, cannot be taught with- 
out arrogance and impiety. For by them 
men do declare that they do not only rendt^r 
to God as much as they are bound to do, but 
they do mo.e lor his sake than of bounden 



HISTORY AND PKOGUESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



525 



duty is reciuired ; whereas Christ saith plain- 
ly : Wlicii ye have done all that is com- 
manded you, say, We are unprofitable serv- 
ants. 12. Not every sin willingly committed 
after justification is the sin against the Holy 
Ghost and unpardonable. Wherefore the 
grant of" repentance is not to be denied to 
such as fall into sin after justification ; after 
we have received the Holy Ghost we may 
fall into sin, and by the grace of God rise 
again and amend ourselves. And therefore 
they are to be condemned who say they can 
no more sin as long as they live here, or deny 
the place of forgiveness to such as tridy re- 
pent. 

13. Tlie visible Church of Christ is a con- 
gregation of faithful men, in which the pure 
Word of God is preached, and the sacra- 
ments duly administered according to Christ's 
ordinance in all tliose things that of necessity 
are requisite to the same. 

14. The Romish doctrine concerning pur 
gatory, ])ardon, worshi2)j)ing and adoration as 
well of images as of relics, and also invoca- 
tion of saints, is a fond thing vainly invented 
and groiindi d upon no warrant of Scripture, 
but repugnant to tlie Word of God. 

15. It is a thing plainly repugnant to the 
Word of God, and the custom of the primitive 
church, to have public prayers in the church, 
or to administer the sacraments, in a tongue 
not understood by the people. 

16. Sacraments ordained of Christ are 
not only badges or tokens of Christian men's 
profession, but, rather, they are certain signs 
of grace, and God's good will toward us, by 
the whi(;h he doth work invisibly in us, and 
doth not only quicken, but also strengthen 
and confirm our faith in him. Tiiere are 
two sacraments ordained of Christ our Lord 
in the gospel ; that is to say, baptism and 
tlie supper of the Lord. Those five com- 
monly called sacraments : that is to say, con- 
firmation, penance, orders, matrimony, and 
extreme unction, cannot be counted for sac- 
raments of the gospel, being such as have 
partly grown out of the corrupt following of 
the apostles, and partly are states of lift; al- 
lowed in the Scriptures, but yet have not 
the like nature of baptism and the Lord's 
supper, because they have not any visible 
sign or ceremony ordained of God. The 
sacraments were not ordained of Christ to be 
gazed upon, or to be carried about; but that 
we should duly use thera. And in su(^li only 
as worthily receive the same, they have a 
wholesome eflect or operation ; but they that 



receive them unworthily, purchase to them- 
selves condemnation, as St. Paul saith, 1 
Cor. xi : 2'.). 

17. Baptism is not only a sign of profes- 
sion, and mark of difierence, whereby Chris- 
tians are distinguished from others that are 
not baptized, but it is also a sign of regen- 
eration, or the new birth. The baptism of 
young children is to be retained in the Church. 

18. The supper of the Lord is not only 
a sign of the love that Christians ought to 
have among themselves one to the other, but 
ralher is a sacrament of our redemption by 
Christ's death ; insomuch that to such as 
rightly, worthily, and with faith receive the 
same, the bread which we break is the par- 
taking of the body of Christ, and the wine 
which we drink is a partaking of the blood 
of Christ. Transubstantiation, or the change 
of the substance of the bread and wijie in the 
supper of the Lord cannot be proved by Holy 
Writ, but is repugr:ant to the plain words 
of Scripture, overthroweth the nature of a 
sacrament, and hath given occasion to many 
superstitions. The body of Christ is given 
and taken in the suppei-.cn'y after a heavenly 
and spiritual manner ; and the means where- 
by the body of Christ is received and taken 
in the supper, is faith. The sacrament of 
the Lord's supper was not by Chiist's ordin- 
ance reserved, carried about, lifted up, or 
worshipped. 

19. The cup of the Lord is not to be de- 
nied to the lay people, for both the parts of 
the Lord's supper, by Christ's ordinance and 
commandment, ought to be administered to 
all Christians alike. 

20. The offering of Christ, once made, is 
that perfect redemption, propitiation and sat- 
isfaction for all the sins of tlie whole world, 
both original and actual, and there is none 
other satisfaction for sin but that alone. 
Wherefore the sacrifice of masses, in the 
which it is commonly said that the priest doth 
of^er Christ for the quick and the dead, to 
have remission of ])ain or guilt, is a blasphe- 
mous fable and dangerous deceit. 

21. The ministers of Christ are not com- 
manded by God's law either to vow the state 
of single life, or to abstain from marriage ; 
therefore it is lawful for tiieni, as for all other 
Christians, to marry at their own discretion, 
as they shall judge the same to serve best 
to godliness. 

22. It is not necessary that rites and cere- 
monies should in all placets be the same, or 
exactly alike, for they have been always dif- 



526 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OP THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



ferent, and may be changrd according to the 
diversity of countries, times, and men's man- 
ners, so tliat nothing be ordained against 
God's Word. Whosoever, through his pri- 
vate judgment, willingly and purposely doth 
openly break the rites and ceremonies of the 
church to which he belongs which are not 
repugnant to the Word of God, and are or- 
dained and approved by common authority, 
ought to be rebuked openly, that others may 
fear to do the like, as one that ofFendeth 
against the common order of the church, and 
woundeth the consciences of weak brethren. 
Every particular church may ordain, change 
or abolish rites and ceremonies, so that all 
things may be done to edification. 

23. The president, tlie Congress, the Gen- 
eral Assemblies, the Governor, the Councils 
of State, as the delegates of the people, are 
the rulers of the United States of America, 
according to the division of power made to 
them by the Constitution of the United States, 
and by the constitutions of their respective 
states. And the said states are a sovereign 
and independent nation and ought not to be 
subject to any foreign jurisdiction. 

24. The riches and goods of Christians 
are not common, as touching the right, title, 
and possession of the same, as some do falsely 
boast. Notwithstanding, every man ought, 
of such things as he possesseth, liberally to 
give alms to the poor, according to his ability. 

2o. As we confess that vain and rash 
swearing is forbidden Christian men, by 
our Lord Jesus Christ, and James his apos- 
tle, so we judge that the Christian religion 
doth not prohibit, but that a man may swear 
when the magistrate requireth, in a cause of 
faith and charity, so it be done according to 
the prophet's teaching, 'in justice, judgment, 
and trutli.' " 

It is proper to notice that as the Metho- 
dist church, founded by Wesley, was really 
an offshoot from the Church of England, 
much of the phraseology of these articles is 
taken from the doctrinal standards of that 
Church. 

The legislative power of the church resides 
in its Generid Conference, which meets every 
four years, and to wliich the 72 annual con- 
ferences are subject. This General Confer- 
ence has hitherto been composed of clerical 
delegates appointed by the several Annual 
Conferences. The General Conference of 
1.S72 will, however, have a proportion of hiy 
delegates, as do now the Annual Conferences ; 
lay representation having been approved by 



a two-thirds vote of the membership in 18G9, 
after having agitated the church more or less 
for forty years, and having been the basis of 
one or two secessions. The General Con- 
ference governs and controls the entire 
Church, but is restricted by its constitution 
on certain points relative to its doctrines, 
polity, and distribution of its funds. 

TliH Annual Conferences consist of all the 
traveling preachers, deacons, and presiding 
elders of a certain portion of country, u^^nally 
comprising several districts, each under the 
charge of a presiding elder. There are now 
also admitted to these conferences delega- 
tions of the laity equal in number to the 
clerical representation. Each conference is 
presided over by a bishop. The main busi- 
ness transacted at these conferences is the 
admission and ordination of preachers ; an 
examination of the character and official ad- 
ministration of the ministers belonging to 
the Conference ; a review of the missionary, 
educational, and publishing interests ; the 
apportionment of the Conference funds to 
infirm and superannuated preachers, and to 
the widows and orphans of such within the 
Conference ; and the assignment of the min- 
isters to their several stations and circuits 
for the year ensuing. In each district there, 
is held a quarterly conference, comi)Osed of 
the traveling and local ministers, the exhort- 
ers, steward-i, class-leaders, and superintend- 
ants of Sunday S'diools. These conferences 
are presided over by the presiding elder of 
the district, and manage the dt tails ot' local 
interests connected with the stations or cir- 
cuits ; serve as courts of appeal in the trial 
of church members ; grant licenses to i)reach, 
and recommend suitable candidate > for ad- 
mission into the Annual Conference. The 
theoi-y of the itinerancy in the Methodist 
church as defined by Wesley, was, that it 
incited the preachers to a greater measure 
of zeal and enthusiasm as they addressed 
new congregations so often ; that it made 
the congregations or churches more attentive 
to the gospel and less attached to the per- 
sons of those who proclaimed it; that by 
this method of distributing the various classes 
of gifts the smaller and poorer locations were 
sure of r ceiving a share of the best gifts of 
which they would otherwise be deprived; 
and that, not being influenced by local at- 
tachments, the p' achers would he better 
fitted to act as pioneers on the frontiers, 
where, otherwise, they might be less willing 
to go. In its practical working other ad van- 



HISTOUT AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



527 



tages and disadvantages have been developed; 
and wiiilo in a new flection of conntry, it 
proxes successful antl lias accomplished giijat 
good, it is every yeai* beconnng more dis- 
tasteful to the clergymen and churches in 
the more densely po})ulated portions of the 
country. In the cities and largi^r towns the 
circuit feature has almost entirely disap 
peared ; the ministers are pastors of single 
churches, the only difference being that their 
stay is limited with a single church. Tliis 
limit was formerly two years, but the Con- 
ference of 1868 made it three years. The 
more eloqutMit and popular preachers, how 
ever, often manage to evade this limit by 
securing an appointment in the same city in 
some different capacity, which will allow 
them to lema'n as practical pastors of tlie 
churches to which they are attached. Willi 
indolent and half educated ministers it is 
alleged that the itinerancy encourages idle 
ness. as it renders any considerable study, be- 
yond the preparatio?! of plans of sermons for 
the first year or two yeai's, unnecessary ; but 
the ^Melhodist ministry has but a small propor- 
tion of drones. To be eligible to full con- 
nection in an annual Conference and the 
offi -e ot deacon, a preacher must have trav- 
eled two years as a probationer and stood 
suitable examinations. He is eligible to 
elders' or ministers' orders after two years 
further service and another examinatii)n. 
Preachers — i. e., licensed exhorters and dea- 
cons — are not authorized to baptize or ad 
minister the Lord's "^ upper. Elders or min- 
isters are oi'daiucd by the bishops, and m ly 
administer all tlie oi'dinances. Stewards are 
persons cho>en by (lie Quarterly Conferences 
to take c'large of and d sburse all funds col- 
lected for the poor, the support of the minis- 
try, and sacrament il purposes. Cias dealers 
are appointed by the ministers ; thr^ir duty 
is to see all the members of their respective 
classes once a week, to learn their spiritual 
condition, and to receive their contributions 
for ch:ir.h purpo-es. Clashes usually con- 
sist of twelve or more persons. 

The statistic-: of ihe JNlethodist Episcopal 
Church, in 1870, were as follows: Bishops 
8; travelling pi'cachei's, '.), 19); local preach 
ers, 11,404; total preachers, 21,234; mem- 
bers in full connection, 1,1 7o,(>',)'J ; members 
on prohatio I, llM.O.Jo ; total lay members, 
1,367, l;54; adult ba[)tisms, 66,481; infant 
baptisms, o(), (03; toal liapt.sms, 116,!)34; 
number of chuiches, 13 373; numbei' of par- 
souag. , 4,171); value of chuicli edilices, $52,- 



614,591; value of parsonages, $7,293,513; 
ninnlx^r of suiiday schools, 16 912; number 
of Sunday school teachers, 189,412; mimber 
of Sunday school scholars, 1,221,393 ; amount 
of benevolent collections, (aside from church 
expenses,) $967,862. 

II. The Methodist Episcopal Church, 
South. This body seceded from the " Meth- 
odist Episcopal Church" in 1844, on the 
following grounds: It was well known that 
John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, 
was opposed to slavery, declaring it to be 
" the sum of all villanies ;" but the Metho- 
dist E|)iscopal Church having a large mem- 
bership in the Southern states, had grown 
lax on the subject, and as for many years 
there was very little agitation on the ques- 
tion, many slaveholders became members 
and a considerable number ministers of the 
church. In 1^28, one of these latter, known 
to be a slaveholder, was sent as the repre- 
sentative of the Methodist Episco|)al Church 
to the British Wesleyan Conference. In 

1840, the General Conference declared by 
formal resolution, that " the mere ownership 
of slave property, in states or territories 
where the laws do not admit of emancipa- 
tion, and permit the liberated slave to enjoy 
freedom, constitutes no legal barrier to the 
election or ordination of ministers to the 
various grades of otlice known in the ministry 
of the "■ Methodist Episcopal Church." In 

1841, however, the feeling of opposition to 
slavery began to be renewed in the General 
Conference, which was held in New York 
City, and proceedings tiot assuming judicial 
foi'ni, and unaccom[)anied with any regular 
iinpeachment, were instituted against Kev. 
James O. Andrew, D. D., who had been one 
of the bishops since 1832, a citizen of Geor- 
gia, who had married a lady possessing many 
slaves. These proceedings, after a protracted 
debate, were terminated by an act passed by 
a majority of the Conference re(|uiring the 
bishop to desist from his functions, on ac- 
count of this connection with slavery. Thei'e- 
upon the representatives of thirteen of the 
thirty-three annual conferences of which the 
church was then composed, (being those em- 
bra'-ed in the slaveholding states,) presented 
a declaration which set forth their solemn 
conviction that a continuance of the juris- 
diction of the General Conference over the 
annual conferences thus represented, wouhl 
be inconsistent with the success of the 
Methodist ministry in the slaveholding states, 
The declaration was acconi])anied by a for. 



528 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



mal protest against the action of the major- 
ity ill Bishop Andrew's case, and thus led to 
tlie adoption by the General Conference of 
a plan of separation, according to which 
there was contemplated an amicable adjust- 
ment of boundary lines, and a fair division 
of property, should the annual conferences 
in the slaveholding states find it necessary 
to unite in an ecclesiastical connection dis- 
tinct from that of the North. The church 
in the South and South-west, in primary as- 
semblies, and in quarterly and annual con- 
ferences, sustained the declaration of the 
delegates, and measures were immediately 
adopted for the assembling of a convention. 
This was held in May, 1845, at Louisville, 
Ky. Acting under the provisions of the 
plan of separation, and in pursuance of the 
formal instructions of the annual conferences, 
tlie convention dissolved the jurisdiction of 
the General Conference over the conferences 
there represented, and created a separate 
ecclesiastical connection under the title of 
" The IMethodist Episcopal Church, South." 
The first General Conference of this organ- 
ization was held at Petersburg, Va., in 18-46. 
There was some difficulty in arranging all 
the details for the separation, and owing to 
the repudiation of the plan of separation 
by the General Conference of the " Metho- 
dist P^pisco})al Church" in 1848, the division 
of the property of the Book concern, pro 
rata, was only accomplished after a lawsuit 
in 1853. In 1845 the statistics of the 
Methodist Episcopal Church, South, were : 5 
bishops, 13 annual conferences, 1,384 trav- 
eling preachers, 90 superannuated preachers, 
2,550 local preachers, 330,710 white mem- 
bers, 124,811 colored members, 2,978 In- 
dians ; total 402,428. This was almost one- 
half of the whole membership of the Meth- 
odist Episcopal Church before the division. 
In 1859, there Avere six bishops, 24 annual 
pi'eachers, 1,GG1 traveling preachers, 5,177 
local preachers, 511,601 white members, 
197,348 colored members, 4,236 Indians; 
total, 721,023. They continued to increase 
imtil the war, when they lost a large number 
of their colored members, who preferred 
the African organizations, and after the 
emancipati(jn proclamation, and the ratifica- 
tion of the XlVth and XVth amendments 
to the constitution of the United States, the 
basis on which they had made their separa- 
tion was removed. The twenty-seven years 
of separate oi-ganization have however, made 
them indisposed for a reunion, and they 



repel all overtures looking to such a measure, 
with considerable bitterness. Their doctrinal 
views are identical with those of the " Meth- 
odist Episcopal Church," and there is no 
difference in their polity or discipline. They 
have now when the board of bishops is full, 
nine, but Bishop Andrew having recently 
deceased, there are but eight now acting ; 
there are 30 conferences, 2,646 traveling 
and 187 superannuated preachers, 4,753 
local preachers, 540,820 white members, 
19,616 colored members, (only one tenth of 
what they had in 1829,) 3,149 Indians; a 
total of 571,241. 

Ill, and IV. The two African Meth- 
odist Episcopal Churches. The A. M. 
E. Church proper, and the Zion.A. M. E. 
Church may perhaps with |)ropriety be con- 
sidered together, inasmuch as overtures are 
now pending for their consolidation. Both 
profess to be identical in their doctrinal 
views with the Methodist Episcopal Church, 
and their polity and government diflTer but 
slightly. The first has bishops, but permits 
lay representation to a limited extent in its 
General Conference from the ranks of the 
local preachers, and gives in its annual con- 
ferences equal privileges to the traveling and 
local preachers. The Zion Church has no 
bishops, but general superintendents in their 
place, elected every four years. It? Gr«neral 
Conference is composed of all the traveling 
ministers in the connection, but no lay dele- 
gation is allowed. An African church se- 
ceded in 1787, under the name of the Bethel 
African M. E. Church, but this was subse- 
quently absorbed into the Methodist Episco- 
pal Church. In 1816, however, some of the 
more eminent of the colored Methodist 
ministers belie\:ing that they could be freer 
and more useful in a separate communion, 
called a convention in Philadelphia, and 
organized the "African Methodist Episcopal 
Church. Its growth has been moderate 
but steady until the emancipation proclama- 
tion in 1863, which has led to a great in- 
crease in its membership. It has now ten 
conferences, seven bishops, over 600 travel- 
ing and 1200 local preachers, 586 churches, 
200,000 communicants, over 500 Sunday 
Schools, and more than 1200 day schools. 
Its adherent popidation is not less than 600,- 
000. The property of the Church, in schools, 
colleges, and church edifices, exceeds four 
million dollars. It owns AVilberforce Uni- 
versity, near Xenia, Green Co., Ohio, and 
four seminaries of a high class at Baltimore, 



HISTORY AND PROGKESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



529 



Md. ; Coluinbus, Ohio ; Alleghany, and Pitts- 
burgh, l*a. They have a IJouk oonerrn at 
Philadelphia, and issue a weekly and a month- 
ly religious periodical. 

The '■"African Methodist Episcopal Zioii 
Church" secetled from the Methodist Episco- 
pal Church in 1820, and held its iirst annual 
conference in New York, iu 1821. Its se- 
cession was in consequence of some differ- 
ences of opinion in regard to church govern- 
ment. Its growth was slow until the war, 
when it shared with the African M. E. 
Church, in the large influx of colored Meth- 
odists previously connected with the church 
south, and in a very large accession of new 
converts. Being very much straitened for 
means for the support of their schools and 
churches just after the war, they appealed to 
Congregationalists, to Unitarians, and to 
Eriends for assistance, and received a consid- 
erable amount from each. They bad ex- 
pected to consummate a union with the 
African M. E. Church in 18G8, but from 
some cause tlie union has been delnyed, but 
will probably be completed in 1872. They 
have six general superintendents (answering 
to bishops, but elected for four years), 694 
traveling and about 1300 local preachers, 
nearly 7U0 churches, and about 1G4:,U00 
members. 

V. The Evangelical Association, 
called also Albriyld Methodists, from the 
name of th^ir founder, is an ecclesiastical 
body of great enei-gy and activity, which 
took its rise in Eastern Pennsylvania, about 
1790, from the labois of Rev. Jacob Albright, 
a German Methodist minister, who sought 
to promote a religious relijrm among the 
Germans of tiiat region. It was not organ- 
ized as a church till about 1800, when Mr. 
All>right was unanimously elected and or- 
dained as their pastor and bishop. 

Sixteen years later they had become so 
numerous as to organize a general confer- 
ence. For the Iirst thirty years of their 
existence, the Evangelical Association met 
with violent opposition, but since 1830 it has 
made rapiil progress. In doctrines and 
theology the association is substantially one 
with the Methodist Episcojjal Church ; and 
its mode of worship and usages are essen- 
tially melliodisuc ; in its church government 
it has a General Conference mcfcting every 
lour years, and constituting its highest legis 



higher rank or privilege than an elder after 
their term of service is expired. The annual 
conferences elect their presiding elders for 
the same term, and these return to the itin- 
erancy at the expiration of their term of 
service. There are also quarterly confer- 
ences, in which a lay delegation is allowed, 
but not in the Amuial or General Confer- 
ences. The statistics of the " Evangelical 
Association" hi 1869 were as follows: Two 
bishops, fourteen annual conferences, 798 
churches, 500 itinerant, and 377 local preach- 
ers, 65,691 members, 863 Sunday Schools, 
with 45,175 scholars, 153 mission stations 
in America, and Europe ; a full complement 
of Missionary, Sunday School, Tract, and 
Charitable societies, a publishing house at 
Cleveland; four periodicals, a college, au: 
orphan institution, several seminaries, 207 
parsonages, and church property to the value 
of about $2,000,000. 

VI. The " Methodist Protestant 
Church," an organization which was form- 
ed of seceders from the "Methodist Episco- 
pal Church" in 1830, the secession being 
based on the grounds of dissatisfiction with 
the Episcopate, and the refusal of lay repre- 
sentation. In doctrinal views, they accept 
the standards of the Methodist Episcopal 
Church, but have no bishops. Their gene- 
ral conference, which meets once in seven 
years, and is composed of one ministerial and 
one lay delegate for every thousand commu- 
nicants, is the governing body ; and in the 
interim of its sessions, its president and the 
officers of the different committees and soci- 
eties created by it, exercise administrative 
authority to a limited extent. The annual 
conferences, composed of ministers only, 
elect their own presidents, and possess au- 
thority within their own bounds. Its quar- 
terly conferences, exhorters, class-leaders, 
stewards, etc., are copied after the Methodist 
Ej)iscopal pattern. The church had iu 1870 
423 itii;erant, and about 860 local preachers, 
nearly 900 churches, and about 72,0! '0 com- 
municants. It does not seem to be growing, 
for its statistics in 1858 were considerably 
larger than tluise figures. It has se\en col- 
legiate institutions, three of them for females; 
two other literary institutions; small book 
concerns at Baltimore, Md., and Springlield, 
Ohio, and four periodicals. 

VII. "The Mktiiodist Church," is au- 



lative and judicial author.ty. The General j other branch of the Methodist family, of 
Conter(;nce elects its bishops for four years ; j which we only know that it reported in 1870 
they may be re-eleclcd, but if not, hold no . 624 preachers, and 49,030 members. Its 
32* 



630 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



doctrines are probably not different from 
those of the other Methodist bodies ; it has, 
we believe, no bishops. 

VIII. "The Wksleyan Methodist 
Connection of America," was organized 
in 1843, and composed mainly of seceders 
fi-om the " Methodist Episcopal Church." 
The seceders were strongly opposed to slav- 
ery, and desirous of having the church purg- 
ed from it ; they were also ardent temper- 
ance men, and hostile to all traffic in intoxi- 
cating liquors as a beverage. The " Metho- 
dist Episcopal Church," which subsequently 
took advanced grounds on both these sub- 
jects, was not at this time willing to do so, 
and disciplined its members who urged it. 
The consequence was the organization pf the 
Wesley an Methodist Connection of Amer- 
ica, at Utica, May 31, 1843. Their doc- 
trines are the same with those of the Metho- 
dist Episcopal Church, except two rules of 
morality, one excluding from church mem- 
bership and Christian fellowship all who 
buy or sell men, women, or children, with 
intent to enslave, or hold them as slaves, or 
claim that it is right to do so ; and the other, 
excluding from membership or fellowship 
all who manufacture, buy, sell, or use intox- 
icating lifpiors, or in any way, intentionally 
and knowingly, aid others so to do, except 
for mechanical, chemical, or medicinal pur- 
poses. In its church government, the Wes- 
leyan Connection is democratic, holding to 
complete ministerial equality and the power 
of each church to act for itself. They have 
an equal representation of ministers and lay- 
men in their general conference, and these 
are elected by the annual conferences which 
ai^e composed of all the ministers and an 
equal number of laymen in their several 
geograi)hical bounds. They do not seem to 
liave increased since the war, numbering 
onlv 250 ministers, and about 20,000 com- 
municants in 1870, against 300 ministers, 
and 20,0f>0 members in 1858. They have 
two collegiate institutions, one at .St. Louis, 
Jackson Co., Mich., the other — the Illinois 
Institute — at Wheaton, Du Page Co., Illin- 
ois. They have jdso one newspaper, ''The 
True Wcsleyanr 

IX. The Free Methodists are the lat- 
est seceders from the Methodist Episcopal 
Church. They profess to have left it on the 
ground of its increasing formalism and con- 
formity to worldly customs and fashions in 
dress, and in the construction, adornment, 
and music of the churches. They advocate 



a return to the early plainness of costume, 
the avoidance of all ornaments and jewelry, 
and the simplicity and bareness of architect- 
ure which characterized the early Metho- 
dists and their houses of worship. With 
this they also desire to restore the ancient 
zeal, fervor, and earnestness of the immedi- 
ate followers of Wesley and his successors. 
They number about one hundred ministers, 
and perhaps 7,000 communicants, and have a 
newspaper — Tlie Free Methodist — edited 
with a good deal of zeal and spirit. 

X. The Primitive Methodist Church 
is a branch of the church of the same name 
in Great Britain, but has not attained to any 
very considerable numbers here ; its mem- 
bers being mostly immigrants who had been 
connected with it before migrating to this 
country. In England it oiiginated in 1807, 
in a secession from the Wesleyans, on 
grounds of polity ; the seceders desiring to 
maintain camp meetings, house to house vis- 
itation and religious outdoor services, and 
the employment of female preachers to some 
extent, with a view to reach the lower and^ 
more depraved classes, and the WesleyansP 
declining to sanction any such movements. 
The Primitive Methodists, like the Free 
Methodists, are very zealous and earnest. 
Their doctrines do not difier from those of 
Wesley ; but in church government they are 
democratic, having no bishops, and in their 
conferences, have two lay delegates for every 
minister. They number in the United States 
about 20 itinerant, and 35 or 40 local 
preachers, nearly 40 churches, and a mem- 
bership of about 2,200. 

XI. The Welsh Calvinistic Method- 
ists are not a numerous body in the United 
States, and are only Methodists in their 
church polity and government, their doc- 
trinal views being more Calvinistic than 
Arminian, and assimilating in this respect to 
the Congregationalists, or to the Calvinistic 
portion of the clergy of the Church of Eng- 
land. They were in England an outgrowth 
of the labors of Whitlield and his successors. 
Indirectly, they were also a result of the 
organization of Lady Huntingdon's Connex- 
ion, with which their doctrinal views fully 
corresponded. In the United States they 
are found principally among the AVelsh,- and 
some elforts to organize other churches, as 
Congregational Methodists, i. e., with Cal- 
vinistic doctrines, and Methodist polity and 
government, have proved failures, the 
churches either becoming wholly Congrega- 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OP THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



>31 



tioual, or joining some of the Methodist 
sects. Tiie Welsh Calvinistic Methodists 
number probably uot more than 3,000 cum- 
municants. 

XII. United Bkkthrf.n in Christ, or 
Gkuman MKTHoniSTS. This denomination, 
tliough not properly Methodists in name, are 
yet so far in unison with them in doctrines 
and polity, that they come more appropri- 
ately under the classification of 31etliodis(s 
than any other. The " United Brethren in 
Ciirist" owe their origin to the labors of 
Philip James Otterbein, a native of Dillen- 
burg, Germany, born June 4, 1726, and or- 
dained to the ministry of the German Re- 
form d Church, at Herborn, Germany, in 
1741). lie was sent to America as a mis- 
sionary by the Synod of Holland in 17."»2, 
and settled at Lancaster, Pennsylvania. Not 
long after his arrival he became convinced 
that he was a stranger to vital godliness, and 
ere long experienced, as he believed, a 
change of heart. He very soon began to 
manifest his zeal bj instituting meetings dur- 
ing the week for prayer and religious con- 
ference, and finding that the region round 
about was in a condition of great spiritual 
destitution he made long pr< aching tours, 
and held what were called "great meetings" 
in tiariis and groves throughout that region, 
his labors being attended with great success. 
Persons who had experienced a change of 
heart, whatever their ecclesiastical relations, 
were invited to take a part in these meet- 
ings, and among those who accepted tlie in- 
vitation was Martin Boehm, a Mennoniti? 
preacher of great zeal and earne-tness. At 
the close of one of Hoelim's most effective 
sermons Otterbein rose, and embracing him 
exclaimed : " We are brethren !" The name 
of United Brethren in Christ was adopted 
by their followers Irom this time. Otterbein 
and Boehm labored together for more than 
fifty years ; and what at lir.-t seemed a revival 
in tiie different churches gradually became 
aixglomerated into a di-tinct d( nomination, 
with it-i hundreds of preachers, called ibr the 
most part from t!ie working classes, and ex 
ercising their gifts at first as lay j)reac-hers 
and subserpiently licensed and ordained by 
the leaders or l)y some of those whom they 
had set apart for the ministry. At Otter- 
bein'> death, in 1813, the " lirethrcn " were 
already a large and iiifkicntial body; they 
h ive since increased with considerable rapicl 
itv, and adopting the; ]Metliodi-t polity of 
quarterly, annual, and general Conferences, 



itinerants, bishojis, and presiding ciders, they 
have come to be a well organized and efii- 
cient body. Their first organization as dis- 
tinct clmrches dates ^ve believe, from 1774. 
In their theological views they aie Armi- 
nians, agreeing very nearly with the Wt s- 
leyan Methodists in England, and the Meth- 
odist Ei)iscopal Church in the United States. 
On a few points only are they peculiar. In 
common with most of the evangelical churches 
they require evidence of a change of heart 
as indisj)ensable to membershi|), but they 
prohibit membership to slaveholders, to ad- 
liering members of any secret society or or- 
ganization, and to those who manu acture, 
sell, or drink intoxicating lii^u )rs. Baptism 
is administered either by pouring, sjn-inkling, 
or immersion, as the candidate may prefer; 
infants are baptized when desired. Open 
comnumion is practised and the ordinance 
of foot-washing, as observed by several of 
the minor German sects, is optional, some of 
the churches observing it, while others do 
not. For the first fifty years of their history 
their ministers confined their labors almost 
exclusively to the German-speaking ])Oj)ula- 
tion, but now they have as many iMigli h as 
German churches. Their statistics in 1^70 
were as follows : thirty-e ght annual confer- 
ences, one genei'al conference, four bishops 
who are elected for four years, and may l)e 
re-elected, about 'JdO itinerant and over 8ii0 
local preachers ; 3,9"''4 organized societies ; 
1,473 church edifices, with 4tt3,()I)!) setiings; 
1IS,0.KJ members; 2,120 Sunday schools, 
with 1G,4I7 teachers and ll2,12-t sciiolars ; 
collections for church puri)oses, r)<S0,-8S; 
value of church property, $2,5()G,6()0. Tiiey 
have at Dayton, Ohio, an extensive publish- 
ing establishment which issues numerous 
books, and beside an annual almanac or year 
book, five periodicals; a Gtirman and an 
English weekly religious newspaper, a montli- 
ly German, and a semi-monthly I-lngl'sh, 
chikl's ])aper, and a missionary periodical in 
English, semi-monthly. They have six col- 
leges; Ottcrbt'in University at Westville, 
Ohio; llartsville Universi y, at Ilartsville, 
Ind. ; AVestfirld College, at Westfield, III.; 
Lebanon Valley College, Annville. l*a. ; 
Lane Univer-ity, Lecompton, K;in. ; and 
Western College, Western Iowa Sublimity 
College, Oregiin, has passed out of iheir 
hands for want of adequate funds for build- 
ings and endowment. 1 hey have also three 
or four female semina is and collegiate 
school" 



)32 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



V. CONGKEGATIONALISTS. 

In its broadest sense the name CoN- 
GREGATIONALIST is applicable to all the de- 
nominations which hold to the independence 
of each church and to the democratic form 
of church government and polity. In this 
sense the Regular Baptists, and, indeed, al- 
most all the denominations which we have 
ranged under the general head of " Baptists" 
as well as the Friends, the Unitarians, and 
the Universalists, are as truly Congregation- 
alists as the churches distinctively known by 
that name. In common usage, however, the 
name is applied almost exclusively to those 
churches which are Augustiniau and Cal- 
vinistic in doctrine, Trinitarian in belief, and 
Pffido-baptist in practice ; and who holding 
these views unite with them a democratic 
church polity, the independence of each 
church, and a fellowship and inter-communion 
with all churches holding like views. 

While there were undoubtedly isolated 
congregations in England in the sixteenth 
century, which maintained substantially con- 
gregational views and organization, Rev. 
John Robinson, first of Scrooby, Nottingham- 
shire, England, and afterwards of Leyden, 
Holland, is generally regarded as the father 
of Congregationalism. His church was or- 
ganized in 1606, and removed almost bodily 
to Holland in 1G08 in consequence of perse- 
cution. After a pastorate of about twelve 
years in Amsterdam and Leyden, a majority 
of the church, under Elder William Brews- 
ter, determined to emigrate to America, and 
after many perils and troubles, landed at 
Plymouth, Massachusetts, Dec. 21, 1620, 
having previously organized as an independ- 
ent cli . hand as a civil community. Others 
followed soon after, and Robinson himself 
intended to come, but died just as he was 
about to sail. The colonists of Massachu- 
setts Bay were at first Non-conformists, but 
they presently adopted the Congregational 
(Jrder. In Massachusetts and Connecticut, 
as well as in the then province of Maine, and 
the colonies of New Hampshire and Ver- 
mont, at a later period, the Congregational- 
ists were the dominant sect or denomination, 
and in the two former colonies and subse- 
quent states, retained a somewhat peculiar 
connection with the state, which, though mod- 
ified, was not wholly abrogated in Connecti- 
cut till 1818, and in Massachusetts in 1833. 
Every householder, or person liable to pay 
taxes, was regarded as primarily subject to 
a tax for the support of religious worship in 



the Congregational church, or, as it was 
usually called " the standing order ;" and 
this liability, if he possessed property, could 
only be avoided by his " signing off," or 
avowing himself a tax-payer for the support 
of some other of the tolerated denominations. 
At first even this was not permitted, except 
in the case of members of the Church of 
England, but gradually more liberal views 
prevailed. This compulsory taxation was 
abrogated in Connecticut by the constitution 
of 1818, and in Massachusetts by a constitu- 
tional amendment, in 1833. In 1770, the 
number of communicants in the Congrega- 
tional churches of the thirteen colonies was 
about 112,000, almost all of whom were in 
New England, though two or three churches 
were planted about that time in Georgia and 
South Carolina. In 1801, a Plan of Union 
was agreed upon between the Presbyterian 
Church and the General Association (of 
Congregationalists) of Connecticut, which, at 
that time was an active missionary body. 
This plan of Union provided that in any new 
place where there were members of Congre- 
gational and Presbyterian cTiurches, to avoid 
the establishment of weak and feeble church- 
es, the members of the two denominations 
should unite to form a church which should 
be either Presbyterian or Congregational as 
the majority of its members might decide, 
and if Congregational, that it should still 
have a qualified right of representation in 
the Presbytery. Under this arrangement, 
which continued in full force till 1837, and 
was not completely abrogated tjU 1852, the 
greater part of the advantages enm'ed to the 
Presbyterians, very feW Congregational 
churches being organized in the midtlle and 
western states, and a considerable portion 
even of these, under the arrangement for 
representation in the Presbyteries, gradually 
becoming Presbyterian. It resulted from 
this liberality, that while there were nearly 
a hundred thou- and former members of Con- 
gregational churches who had contributed to 
swell the numbers of the Presbyterian and 
Reformed churches, the actual number of 
communicants in Congregational churches in 
the entire country, in 1850, at the expiration 
of eighty years from 1770, did not much ex- 
ceed 200,000. There had been in this inter- 
val, it is true, a very considerable loss in 
Massachusetts (mostly from 1810 to 1830) 
by the falling away of the Unitarians- This 
had probably caused a diminution of fifteen 
to eiditeeu thousand members. But soon 






Zd 



^ 




nrSTOUY AND rUOGUESS OF THE DIFFKUEXT DKXOM INAI lO.VS. 



533 



afier 1840 (luTe was a sj)irit of greater ac- 
tivity and aggiessive action roused in the 
Congregational eliurches. This found ex- 
pression, in 18')2, in the National Congrega- 
tional Convention, a sort of Ceneral Synod 
or Council, wliieh met at Albany. This 
Convention initiated measures for greater 
denonnnational missionary activity, advised 
the raising of a fund of $100,000 to aid in the 
erection of Congregational churches in the 
new states and territories, and largely in- 
creased eflbrts for the extension of Congre- 
gationalism as a denominational organization. 
As a result of this Convention and the spirit 
which prompted it, the growth of the denom- 
ination has been rapid and healthy in the 
western states and territories, and during 
the recent war and since, it ha^ pioved itself 
])ossessed of great energy and ability in pro- 
pagating Christianity in its simpler forms 
throvighout the country. Tiie Presbyterians 
and the Kefoi'uied (Dutch) Church had for- 
merly been associated with the Congrega- 
tionalists in both Home and Foreign Mis- 
sionary enterprises, but the Old School 
branch of the Presbytenans withdrew from 
both about 1837; the Reformed, in 1857; 
and the New School branch of the Presby- 
terians partially from the Home Missionai-y 
Society in 1853 or 1854, and wholly in 1865, 
and from the American Missionary Associa- 
tion abf)ut the same time ; and at the re- 
union of the two branches of tlic Presbyte- 
rian church in 1870, the New School mem- 
bers withdrew a'so from the American Tioard 
of Conunissioners of Foreign Missions, tak- 
ing with them three or finir of the ]\Ii-sions. 
The Congregalionalists have, howc\er, man- 
fully taken the entire burden on their own 
shoulders, and are maintaining these organ- 
izations in their full vigor. In 1865, an- 
other General Synod, or National Council, 
was held in Boston, which has resulted in a 
further development of denominational as 
well as of Christian activity. This Council 
adopted a Declaration of Faith, the first au- 
thoritative exposition of their views of doc- 
tfine and })olity, which had had the full sanc- 
tion of the denomination ; though earlier 
General Synods — those of Cambridge in 
1637 and 1646 — and the partial one of Say- 
brook in 1708, had adojjted in general terms, 
and for substance of doctrine, the Westmins- 
ter and Savoy Confessions of Faith, and the 
" Cambridge Platform," and the " Saybrook 
Platform" of polity and discipline. 

This '• Declaration of Faltli" adopted in 



1865, on Burial Hill, Plymouth, Mass., is as 
follows : 

" Standing by the rock where the Pilgrims 
set foot upon these shores, upon the spot 
where they worshipped God, and among the 
graves of the early generations, we, elders 
and messengers of the Congregational eliurch- 
es of the Cnited States in National Council 
assembled, like them acknowledging no rule 
of faith but the Word of God, do now declare 
our adherence to the faiih and order of the 
apostolic and primitive churches held by our 
fathers, and substantially as embodied in the 
confessions and platforms which our synods 
of 1648 and 1080 set forth or re-affirmed. 
We declare that the experience of i he nearly 
two and a half centuries which have elapsed 
since the memorable day when our sires 
fovuided here a Christian commonwealth, with 
all the development of new forms of error 
since their times, has only deepened our con- 
fidence in the faith and polity of tho>e fathers. 
We bless God for the inheritance of these 
doctrines. We invoke the help of the Divine 
Hedeemer, that through the presence of the 
promised Comforter he will enable us to 
transnut them in ])urity to our children. 

" In the times that are before us as a na- 
tion, times at once of duty and danger, we 
rest all our hope in the Gospel of the Son 
of God. It was the grand peculiarity of our 
Puritan fathers, that they held this Gospel, 
not merely as the ground of their persnnal 
salvation, but as declaring the worth of man 
by the incarnation and sacrifice of the Son 
of God ; and therefore ajjplied its principles 
to elevate society, to regulate education, to 
civilize humanity, to purify law, to reform 
the church and the state, and to assert and de- 
fend liberty; in short, to mould and redeem, 
by its all-transforming energy, everything 
which belongs to man in his intlividual and 
social relations. 

" It was the faith of our fathers that gave 
us this free land in which we dwell. It is 
by this faith only that we can transmit to our 
children a free and happy, because a Chris- 
tian, commonwealth. 

"We hold it to be a distinctive excellence 
of our Congregational system, that it exalts 
that which is more, above that which is less 
important, and by the simplicity of its organ- 
ization facilities, in communities where the 
population is limited, the union of all true 
l)elievers in one Christian church; and that 
the division of such communities into several 
weak and jealous societies, holding the same 



534 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



common faith, is a sin against tlie unity of 
tlie body of Christ, and at once the shaiiie 
and srandid of Christendom. 

" AVe rejoice tliat throu^li the influence of 
our free system of a|)ostnlic order, we can 
liold fellowship with m11 who acknowledge 
Christ and act etficiently in the work of re- 
tt. ling unity to ■ the divided church, and 
or nging back harmony and peace among all 
who love our Loixl .Jesus Cin-ist in sincerity. 

'■ Thus recognizing the unity of the Church 
oi Chri t in the world, and knowing that we 
are biii one bianch of Christ's people, while 
adhering to our peculiar faith and order, we 
extend to all believers the hand of Christian 
f^'llov/sh p upon the basis of those great fun- 
damental tiiith> in which all Christ-an- should 
agee. Wiih tlu m we confess our faith in 
flod, the Father, the Son, and the Holy 
Ghost, the oidy living and true God; in 
Jesus Christ, the incarnate "Word, who is ex- 
alted to be our Redeemer and King ; and in 
the Holy Comforter, who is present in the 
Chui'ch to regenerate and sanctify the soul. 

'' With the whole Church, Ave confess the 
common sin'uhiess and ruin of our race, and 
acki.owledge that it i-; only through the work 
H' complished by the life and expiatory death 
I- 'Jlirist, that believers in him are jusiitii-d 
before God, receive the remission of sms, 
and through the pre-ence and grace of the 
Holy Co riforter, are delivered from the pow- 
er of sin and perfected in hcliness. 

" \\ e believe, al.'o, in the organized and 
visible Church, in the mini- try of the Word, 
in the sacraments of Baptism and the Lord's 
8up|)er, in the resurrection of the body, and 
ia tlie fiuid jiid.'ment, the issues of which are 
e:ern;d life, and everlasting punishment. 

" We rect-ive these truths on the testi- 
niDuy of God, given through prophets and 
rpostles, and in the life, the miracles, the 
death, the resurrection of His Son, our Di- 
wne Redeemer, — a testimony preserved for 
the Church in the Scriptures of the Old and 
!New Testaments, which were composed by 
holy men as they were moved by the Holy 
Ghost. 

'•Alfirming now our belief that those who 
tliiis hold ' one faith, one Lord, one baptism,' 
.ogether cotistitiiie the one Catholic Church, 
Uie several households of which, though call 
ed by different names, are the one body of 
Christ, and that these members of IJis body 
are sacredly bound to keep ' the unity of the 
Spirit in the bonds of peace,' we declare that 
we v.ill cooperate with all who hold these 



truths. With them we will carry the Gos- 
pel into every part of this laud, and with 
them we will go into all the world and 
'preach the Gospel to every creature.' May 
He to wliom 'all power is given in Heaven 
and earth,' fulfil the ])romise which is all our 
hope: ' Lo, lam with you al way, even to 
the end of the world.' Amen." 

As we have already said, the Congrega- 
tionalists are Pa?do-baptists, though infant 
baptism is far from being as universal with 
them as it was formerly. Baptized children 
are not ailmitted to full membership in the 
church, except on evidence of conversion, 
and a profession of their faith in Christ. 
The u-ual mode of baptism is by affusion or 
sprinkling, but most of their clergymen ad- 
minister the ordinance by pouring, or by im- 
mersion, if the candidate has a distinct pref- 
erence for either of those mode-. They rec- 
ognize tlie minister, elder, presbyter, or bish- 
op ( holding these titles as synonymous) as 
the only clerical officer of the church. The 
deacons, tliough set apart by ordination in 
some of the churches, have no more author- 
ity than any other layman. An executive, 
or prudential, or standing committee (they 
are calh d by these different names in differ- 
ent churches) assist the pastor in examining 
candidates for membership, and those recom- 
mended by them are propounded for mem- 
bership, and if no exception is taken they are 
received after a delay of one or two weeks. 
Pastors are called by the churches which de- 
sire their services, and usually also by the 
ecclesiastical society, the corporation known 
in law as holding and controlling the cl.'urch 
property, and which is usually composed of 
members of the church ; but the pastor is 
not considered as in the fellowship of the 
C'ongregational churches adjacent, until he 
has been examined, and ordained or installed 
by a council composed of the pastors and 
lay delegates from other churches. A church 
may be organized by a band of believers 
coming together voluntarily and agreeing to 
form themselves into a church, but in order 
to its recognition as in fellowship with other 
churches of the same faith, a council must be 
called to examine into the need of it, its ma- 
terial, and its doctrines. 

Candidates for the ministry are examined 
carefidly in regard to their religious experi- 
ence, doctrinal views, knowledge of Scrip- 
tural learning, and general fitness. Usually 
a collegiate education, or its equivalent, is 
required. The church is practically the 



IIISTOUV AND I'ROGUESS OF THE DIFFliRKXT DKXOMIXATIOXS. 



535 



hij^host aiitliority in regard to matters of dis- 
(■i|)l lie, but in important cases at the request 
of the party uiulrr discii)line, a mutual, or if 
tlje fhureli refuse, an ex-parfe council of pas- 
tors and delegates of neii^liboring cluirclies, 
is called, winch investigates the case, and 
communicates tlie "residts" at which it 
arrives, to the parties. These councils pos- 
sess, however, only advisory powers, but 
their advice is usually accepted. 

The Coiigregatiomdists have now churches 
in 37 of the states and territories, and w'lile 
their largest membership is still in New 
England, in most of the states of that section 
it being the largest denomination, yet they 
havt; very considerable strength in Illinois, 
Michigan, Iowa, Wisconsin, Oliio, and New 
York. 

Tlieir statistics at the close of 1870, were : 
Churches 3,12 1 ; Ministers 3,194 ; Members 
306,518; teachers and pupils in Sabbath 
Schools 3G1.4G5; gain over the previous 
year, churches 78; members 6,15G; mem- 
bers of Sabbath Scliools 4,i)G3 ; ministers 
exclusive of foreign missionaries 30. Of the 
ministers, 928 are reported as not engaged in 
pastoral work. Of their contributions to ben- 
evolent purposes, it is impossible to speak def- 
initely, as they are in the Bil)le Society, the 
American Tract Societies, and have been, un- 
til the present year, in the American Hoard, 
and the American and Foreign Clwistian 
Union, associated with other denominations. 
Their co'.itril)Utions to the several benevolent 
objects, aside from contributions for home 
church purposes, and from endowments 
ma'le toxoUe.iiiate or Theological institutions 
or asylu;ns, «&c., must have exceeded $2,- 
OOO.OwU. For home purposes they were not 
less than $t.500,OO0 more. 

The denomination have six theological 
seminaries, which had, in 1870, twenty-eight 
professors, and 305 students. These were 
located at Bangor, Maine; Andover, Mass.; 
Hartford and New Haven, Conn.; Oberlin, 
Ohio ; and Chicago, 111. There wei'e also 
eighteen colleges, having an ajxsi't'iriite of 
more than 5,000 students, in which, though 
not exclusively denominational, the Congre- 
gationalists have a controlling influence. 
Aside from these, there are eighteen incorp- 
orated and endowed academies, and female 
seminaries, besides lannerous private semin- 
aries and academies, directly under the con- 
trol of the denomination. 

There are seventeen periodicals, weekly, 
semi-montldy, monthly, and (piarterly, whicli 



are recognized as distinctively Congregation- 
al ist. 

The only other denominations not already 
noti<'ed, which are Congregational in their 
polity, but not in their doctrine, are the Uni- 
TAUiAXs. and Univkusa lists, Ixitli of which 
will be treated under their respective titles. 



VI. THE PROTESTANT EPISCOPAL 
CHURCH IN THE UNITED STATES, 
sometimes called by a section of its mem- 
bers, the Anglican or Axglo-Catiiolic 
Church. 

This denomination was, in its origin in the 
United States, a part of the Church of Kng- 
land, and its clergymen received oi-dinatioii 
at the hands of tlie Bishop of London until 
1784:, and indeed mo-t of them until 1788 or 
1789. Virginia had established the Church 
of England as the religion of the colony, as 
early as 1G50, and Maryland, though settled 
at hrst by Roman Catholics, had done the 
same thing in 1G92. Attempts were made 
by some of the colonial governors of New 
York to make it the established religion of 
that colony, but without great success. The 
adherents to the Church of England were, 
however, considerably numerous in New 
York, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Vir- 
ginia, before the Revolulionary War, and 
they had ten or twelve churches in Connec- 
ticut. In the other colonies they were very- 
few. Efforts had been made to obtain one 
or two bishops for these colonies almost from 
the l)eginning of the eighteenth century, but 
they had failed, both from the uufriimdiy 
fueling of the English governmc;nt, and from 
the jealousy against Episcoi)acy in the colon- 
ies, growing out of the poliical complications 
in winch the bishops in Great l>ritain were 
involved. In November, 1784, Kcv. Sam- 
uel Seabury, D. D., a Connecticut clergy- 
man, having sought ordination as a bishop 
of the diocese of Connecticut, from the Eng- 
lish bishops, and being refiised on account of 
some political obstacles, went to Scotland 
and was (;onsecrated at Aberdeen, by three 
of the bishops of the Scottish Ej)iscopal 
Church. In 1787, William White, I). D., 
was consecrated Bishop of the Diocese of 
I'ennsylvania, and Samuel Provost, D. D., 
Bishop of the diocese of New York, by the 
Archbishop of Canterbury, at Lambeth Pal- 
ace chapel, and three and a half years later, 
James Midison, 1). I)., of Virginia, was con- 
secrated at the same place as Bi-hop of the 



586 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



Diocese of Virginia. These four bishops 
were all who received consecration in Great 
Britain, and tlu'ough them, according to the 
views of the High Church party, the Apos- 
tolical suci'es.-iou in the bishops and clergy 
was transmitted to the American church. 
The growth of the Protestant Episcopal 
Church has not been rapid, but has been to 
a great extent in the large cities and princi- 
pal towns of the country, and only to a lim- 
ited extent in the rural parishes. The beau- 
tiful liturgy and imposing ritual of the Epis- 
copal Church, as well as the WM'alth and 
fashion of some of its atUicrents, and the gor- 
geous architecture of many of its church edi- 
fices, have drawn to its worship, in the great 
cities, large numbers of the fashionable and 
worldly, attracted by externals ; but within 
its communion are also very many earnest 
and devout souls, to whom its order and cer- 
emonies are exceedingly precious. Within 
its communion, as in that of the Church of 
England, there are three distinct parties, 
often more diverse in their views than either 
is from other denominations; yet all profess- 
ing to hokl by the same standards, to which, 
however, they give very different interpreia- 
tions. The doctrinal standards of the Pro- 
testant E[)iscopal Church, are the Apostles' 
and Nicene creeds (for though many of them 
agree to the Athanasian Creed, it is not an 
acknowledged standard as it is with the 
Church of England) ; the XXXIX articles 
of the Church of England, except the XXIst 
and XXXVIIth, and a slight modification of 
the Vlllth, XXXVth, and XXXVIth ; the 
Book of Common Prayer, as revised by the 
American Bishops, and the Homilies in gen- 
eral. The High Clmrch party (with which 
are generally included the Ritualists, and the 
Puseyites or Tractarians, though boih go far- 
ther than most of the High Cliurchmen) take 
their stand upon the Episcopal Constitution, 
the theory of Apostolical succession, and 
more than all on the Book of Common 
Prayer, and give to these standards a signili- 
catiou which seems strained and my.-ticiJ, 
and insist that they are to be interpreted 
with due reference to the practices and cus 
toms of the early Catholic Church. They 
have brouglit into the vvorsliip of the Protest- 
ant Episro[)al Clmrch many customs, cere- 
monies, and practices which are certainly 
borrowed fiom the lioman Catholic church, 
and a considerable number of them have 
demonstrated this, by taking still another 
step and going entirely over to the Church 



of Rome. This branch of the Protestant 
Episcopal Church, or rather this party in it, 
have been extremely intolerant of other 
religious denominations, denouncing them as 
di>senters, and as having no part in the cov- 
enant, assuming to themselves even a higher 
position than that claimed by the Roman 
Catho'ic Church. At the same time, it is 
due to them to say, that in active Christian 
work within the bounds of their own denom- 
ination, exclusively, they are not surpassed 
by any other denomination in the countrv, 
according to their numbers. Their intoler- 
ance and bigotry has possibly led another 
division of the church, the Loiv Church party, 
to an extreme in the other direction. The 
Low Church take their position on the 
" Thirty nine articles " which are Calvinistic 
on the doctrine of election, and Zuinglian in 
the doctrine of the Sacraments. They are 
Evangelical in their doctrinal views, and in- 
terpret their standards as permitting, and 
indeed enjoining, on them free and hearty 
Christian intercourse with other Evangelical 
dennrainations. They interchange pulpits 
with them, and engage very cordially in as- 
sociations for the promotion of objects of 
general Christian benevolence. That in 
these measures they occasionally overstep 
the strict letter of their standards, may be, 
and probably is, due to a too great narrow- 
ness in the standards themselves. 

The third, or ''^Broad Church par/i/,'" have 
not so much inclination either to a narrow 
and straight-laced interpreiation of their 
standards, and a bigotry toward other denom- 
inations, or to a thoroughly evangelical coop- 
eration with them, as to loose and broad views 
in re;.'ard to the in-piration and authenticity 
of the Scriptures, and a strongly rationalistic 
tendency. This party, which we believe 
includes in this countiy none of the bishops, 
sub.-cribe to the XXXIX articles, with many 
menial reservations, and some of them boldly 
avow that Protestantism is a failure. 

The condition of affairs in the Protestant 
Ef»iscopal Church, resulting from these great 
differences of sentiment and opinion, have 
more than once threatened that chur. h with 
division, if not dissolution, and at the present 
time seem more likely to rend it than ever. 
A few churches have already withdrawn 
from its communion, and otliers of the Low 
Churcli party are only awaiting the result of 
a last appeal to the Triennial General Con- 
vention to decide upon their future course. 

Under the article on the Methodist Epis- 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



537 



COPAL Church, we have given twenty-five 
of the thirt3'-sevt'n articles retained by the 
Protestant Episcopal Church, in every case 
but one imn<j; their exact language. (This 
one is in regard to the " Rulers of the United 
States of America," and, of course, differs 
from the English article on the subject of 
rulers.) It is hardly necessary for us to 
repeat these, and the others which are omit- 
ted by the INfethodist Church, but retained 
by the Protestant Episcopal; they relate, as 
will appear from their titles, rather to ab- 
stract topics and beliefs, and to matters of 
j)olity, than to the fundamental doctrines of 
the Church. The titles of the omitted arti- 
cles are : " Art. 3. Of the going down of 
Christ into Hell." "Art. 13. Of works before 
justification." "Art. 15. Of Christ alone 
without sin." "Art. 17. Of Predestination 
and Election "(the most decidedly Calvinistic 
article in the whole XXXIX, and singularly 
at variance with some other portions of the 
standard). "Art. IH. Of obtaining salvation 
only by the name of Christ." "Art. 20. Of 
the autho.ity of the Church." "Art. 23. Of 
ministering in the congregation." "Art. 26. 
Of the aiworthiness of the ministers, which 
hinders not the effect of the sacrament." 
"Art. 29 Of the wicked whiqh eat not the 
body of Christ in the use of the Lord's Sup- 
per." "Art. 33. Of excommunicated per- 
sons ; how they are to be avoided." "Art. 
34. Of the traditions of the Cimrch." "Art. 
36. Of the consecration of Bishops and min- 
isters." This last is modified to adapt it to 
the peculiarities of the American church. 
To the doctrinal discrepancies growing out 
of the interpretations of the XXXIX arti- 
cles, and the Book of Common Prayer, 
which it is very difficult to make accord fully 
with each other, is due much of the division 
in the Protestant Episcopal Church. 

In matters of polity, the P2piscopal Church 
recognizes three orders of clergy : Bishops, 
priests, and deacons. The Bishops, like 
those of the Roman Catholic, Greek, Armen- 
ian, and some other churches, are diocesan, 
i. e., have charge of the churches of a partic- 
ular territory or diocese, in distinction from 
those of tlie Methodist Church, which are 
general and itinerant, and those of a part of 
the Lutheran churches, which are more 
nearly Presbyterian, the Bishop being of no 
higher authority nor dignity than the other 
clergy, but simply performing duties of a dif- 
ferent cla~s. Such is substantially also the 
theory of Episcopacy in the Moravian church. 



The High Church theory is, that the Bish- 
ops are the successors of the Apostles, that 
the consecration has come to them in regular 
order througli the hands of a succession of 
holy men, the bishops of the Roman Church 
before the Reformation, and that they are 
thus Bishops by direct transmission from 
Jesus Christ and his Apostles, and so by 
divine right. They regard them as superior 
to priests and deacons. The Low Church 
party deny all this, and reject the theory of 
the " exclusive validity of Episcopal orders." 
The priests, called also in the United States, 
generally rectors, and, where not in full 
charge of a parish, assistant ministers, have 
received at the hands of the bishop the sec- 
ond ordination which confers upon them the 
power of administering the sacraments. The 
third, or lowest grade of the ministry, is the 
deacon, which in this church is usually but 
temjiorary, the candidate when invested with 
this office, is allowed to baptize, to read in 
the church, and to assist in the Eucharist, 
but only in the administration of the wine. 
His office is wholly distinct fiom that of the 
deacon in Presbyterian, Congregational, or 
Baptist churches, being more analogous to 
that of the licentiate in those churches. It is 
usually a mere preliminary or step[)ing stone 
to the reception of priests' orders, and both 
ordinations are, in some instances, effected in 
the same day. The temporaliiies of the 
Episcopal churches are administered by the 
concurrence of the rector and the vestry, 
composed of wardens and vestrymen elected 
by the members of the parish. The Episco- 
pal Church usually administers baptism by 
making the sign of the cross on the forehead 
of the person baptized, requiring a profession 
of faith (in the case of infants, this is made 
for them by their sponsors, or god-father and 
god-mother). Immersion either in the case 
of children or adults, though formerly prac- 
tised by the Church of England, is not now 
considered necessary. The formula for the 
baptism of infants, in the prayer book, con- 
tains the words, " since this child is now re- 
generate," and a very exciting discussion has 
sprung up in regard to these words, some 
clergymen contending that they inculcated 
the doctrine of baptismal regeneration, and 
refusing to use them on this account. At 
the Triennial General Convention, held in 
Baltimore, in Oct. 1871, though no general 
canon defining this passage was passed, yet 
nt^arly all tht; bishops signed a paper giving 
it as their private opinion that the term as 



538 



HISTOTIT AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



thus used was not intended to imply that doc- 
trine. 

The statistics of the Protestant Episcopal 
Church in 187U were as follows : Dioceses 39 ; 
Missionary do. 1 1 ; Bishops 39 ; Assistant do. 
5 ; Mis.^ionai y do. 8 ; Priests and Deacons 2,- 
710; Parishes 2,.5 1 2 ; communicants, not fully 
reported, but believed to be not quite 220,- 
000; Baptisms of infants, 20,749; of adults, 
5,030; not specified, 3,760; Confirmations 
20,793; Sunday School Teachers 18,661; 
Scholars 185,979; Contributions (incom- 
plete), $4,205,029. 

The Episcopal Church has been very ac- 
tive in the promotion of educational institu- 
tions. It has 14 theological seminaries, with 
57 professors and 366 students; 15 colleges, 
with 1,380 students, and 20 academies and 
diocesan schools, under the control of its 
Bishops. It has 22 periodicals, weekly, semi- 
weekly, monthly, and quarterly, devoted to 
its interests, and within a few years past has 
manifested a zeal and energy in propagating 
its views, and establishing churches, especi- 
ally in the new states and territories, which 
contrasts very favoi'ably with the apathy of 
its early history. 



VII. THE EVANGELICAL LUTHERAN 
CHURCH. 

The Lutheran Church in the United 
States, is one, in the sense of holding with 
greater or less tenacity to the same stand- 
ards or Confessions of Faith ; but it has 
some elements of discord in it, mainly in 
matters of minor importance, which have 
led to violent controversies, and to so great 
bitterness between some of its synods that 
they not only refuse fellowship and commun- 
ion wi h each other, but have excommuni- 
cated each other. These discordant elements 
are, however, confined for the most part to 
the smaller independent synods, and do not 
so much affect the larger bodies. The de- 
nomination is growing in the United States 
with great rapidity, especially in tlie West, 
and mainly, though not exclusively, by immi- 
gration, the very large numbers of Germans, 
Swedes, Norwegians, and Danes, arriving 
here every year being, a majority of them — 
nominally at least — attached to the Lutheran 
faith. The first Lutherans came to Penn- 
sylvania between 1680 and 1700, attracted 
by the offers of William Penn. In 1710, 
about 3,000 German Lutherans who had 
taken refuge in England from the persecu- 



tions of the Romanists, were sent over to 
Pennsylvania by the British government. 
In 1727, another large colony came over 
from the Palatinate, Wurtemburg, Darm- 
stadt, and other parts of Germany. For 
nearly twenty years, these poor people had 
no ministers of their own; but in 1748, Dr. 
Henry Melchior Muhlenburg, a missionary 
of the Halle Orphan Houst-i, brought up under 
the training of Francke and Spencer, came 
to Pennsylvania and labored most zealously 
for half a century among them, organizing 
churches, consistories, and synods, and being 
entitled to be considered the father of the 
German Lutheran Church in America. At 
the time he arrived here, there were only 
eleven Lutheran ministers in the Colonies. 
Three years later there were forty, and a 
Lutheran population of about 60,000. No 
one of the Protestant churches suffered more 
severely by the Revolutionary W^ar than did 
the Lutheran, and ihey were long in recov- 
ering from the depression thus caused. Many 
of their churches were abandoned, and it 
seemed for years as if their religious vitality 
had departed. Their churches were scatter- 
ed, and belonged to distant and separate 
synods, having little communication with 
each other and no common band of union, 
and being in many instances composed of 
Lutherans from different countries of Europe, 
they were inclined to look upon each other 
with jealousy. This was, to some extent, 
remedied, and a better state of affairs inaug- 
urated by the formation of the General Syn- 
od of the Lutheran Church, in 1820. From 
that time, a steady and constantly increasing 
tide of emigration began to flow in to the 
country, and much of the German and Scan- 
dinavian part of it was composed of Luther- 
ans, or those who had been brought up under 
Lutheran influences. Many of these, coming 
from countries where Lutheranism was the 
religion of the state, and the sovereign the 
head of the church, had been accustomed to 
great laxity in religious matters. . At the 
suitable age they were confirmed and became 
members of the church, however irregular 
their mode of life, and no evidence of conver- 
sion was required for membership. These 
lax views, and a general tendency to ration- 
alism, they desired to graft upon the Ameri- 
can Lutheran Church, and in some of the 
newer synods their views prevailed. These 
synods refused, on these and other accounts, 
to join the General Synod. There were 
other grounds of difference, also, relating to 



niSTOKY AND PROOUESS OV THE DIFFEKKNT DENOMINATIONS. 



539 



the standards of the church, the clerical olfice, 
tlie adoption or rejection of symbolical rites 
and cercniouios, and a litni-i^ical service, and 
the making use of what have been known as 
revival measures. These differences were; 
increased by the emi!:;iation of a considerable 
n-Mulicr of the ''Old Lutheran" j>:irty to tlie 
United States in bSo? and 1838. The 
JjUtherans all agree in receiving the "Augs- 
burg Confession," (drawn up by Mebincli- 
thon, and sanctioned l)y Lutlier, in 15;!0) as 
tlu'ir principid standard of doctrine; though 
the New Lutherans regard even this as only 
an expression, " in a manner substantially 
correct," of the cardinal doctrines of the 
IVible, which they regard as the only infalli- 
ble rule of fiith and practice. The Old 
Lutherans on the contrary, while avowing 
the Hible :is the ultimate rule of faith and 
j>ractice, adhere very strenuously to tlie 
entire " Rook of Concord," so called, as the 
standard of their doctrinal beliefs. This 
Book of Concord contains the three creeds, 
viz., the Apostles', Alhanasian, and Nicene 
Creeds, the Augsburg Confession of 1830, 
and the xVpology of the Confession (written 
by Melanchthon, 1510), the SelimalkMld 
Articles (drawn up by Luther in l.')37), and 
tlie two Catechisms of Luther (prepared be- 
fore 1530). The Old Lutherans are ni- 
clined, to some extent, to retain also, those 
rites, ceremonies, and observances, wh ch 
Melanchihon regarded as things indifferent, 
sucli as the wearing of clerical vestments, 
exorcism, private confessions, lax views of 
the Sabl)atli, and the old Lutheran doctrine 
of baptism, in its relatiou to regeneration 
and the Lord's Supper. 

" The book of Concord," and, indeed, the 
"Aug-burg Confession," and its "Apology," 
are too long to be inserted in this britif his- 
tory of denominations, but we give below a 
summary of their principal doctrines, as 
stateil by an eminent Lutheran clergyman. * 
'' The fundamental doctrine of the Lutheran 
Church is that we are justified before God, 
not thvough any merit of our own, but by his 
tender mercy, throuj^h faith in his Son. The 
depravity of man is total in its extent, and 
his will has no positive ability in the work of 
salvation, but has the negative ability of 
ceasing its resistance. Jesus Christ oHered 
a proper and vicarious sacrifice. Faith in 
Christ presupposes a true penitence. The 
renewed man co-works with the Spirit of 



* New American Cyclopaedia, Vol. X, pp. 739, 740. 



God. Sanctificatlon ia progressive and nev- 
er reaches absolute perfection in tliis life. 
The Holy Spirit works through tlni Word 
and the Sacraments, which alone, in the 
proper sense, are means of grace. Loth the 
VV'ord and the Sacraments bring a positive 
grace which is offered to all who receive 
them outwardly, and which is actual y im- 
parted to ail who have faith to end)race it. . 
. . . . The Evangelical Lutheran Church 
regards the "Word of God, the Canonical 
Scriptures, as the absolute and only law of 
faith, and of life. "Whatever is undefined by 
its letter or its spirit, is the subject of Chris- 
tian liberty, and pertains not to the sphere of 
conscience, but to that of order ; no power 
may enjoin upon the church, as necessary, 
what God has forbidden, or has pas-ed by in 
silence, as none may forbid her to hod what 
God has enjoined upon her, or to practise 
what, by His silence, he has left to her free- 
dom. Just as firm'y as she holds upon the 
one hand that the iJible is the rule of faith 
and not a confession of it, she holds on the 
other that the creed is a confession of faith 
and not the rule of it. The creeds are sim- 
ply the testimony of the Church to the truths 
she holds ; but as it is the truth they confess, 
she of necessity regards those who reject 
the truth confessed in the creed, as rejecting 
the truth set forth in the Word. While, 
therefore, it is as true of the Lutheran 
Church as of any other, that when she lays 
her hand u[)on the Bible, she gives the com- 
mand, 'Believe!' and when she lays it on 
the Confession, she puts the question, 'Do 
you believe?' it is also true that when a man 
replies, ' No,' to the question, she considers 
him as thereby giving evidence that he has 

not obeyed the command Baptism. 

The Lutheran Church holds that it is neces- 
sary to salvation to be born again of water, 
and the Spirit; but she holds tiiat this neces- 
sity is ordinary, not absolute, or without ex- 
ception ; that the contempt of the sacrament, 
not the want of it, condemns, and that though 
God binds us to the means, lie does not bind 
His own mercy by them. From the time of 
Luther to the present hour the Lutheran the- 
ologians have maintained the salvability and 
actual salvation of infants dying nnbaptized. 
The rest of the doctrine of the Lutheran 
Church as a whole, is involved in her confes- 
sion, with the Nicene Creed, " one baptism 
for the remission of sin," and that through 
it the grace of God is offered ; that chil- 
dren are to be baptized, and that being 



540 



H STORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



thus committed to God they are graciously 
received by him. At the same time she 
rejects the theory of the Anabaptists, that 
infants uubaprized have salvation because of 
tiieir personal innocence, and maintains that 
the nature with which we are born requires a 
change, which must be wrought before we 
can enter heaven, and that infants are saved 
by the application of Christ's redemptory 
work." It has been charged for more than 
three centuries that the Lutherans held to 
the doctrine of Comubstantiation, that is, the 
local or corporeal presence in, with, or under 
the brrad in the Lord's Supper ; they deny 
this most strt-nuously, but admit that they 
hold to a sacrameutal, spiritual, or supernat- 
ural presence of the Divine Redeemer in the 
sacrament, and tliat those who partake, do in 
reality feed upon him spiritually, though if 
unworthy, to their own condemnation. On 
the subject of the Lord's Day, while it is 
acknowl'dged that the general practice 
among P^ot^^stants on tlie continent of 
Euroi)e, in regard to its observance, is much 
more lax than that which prevails in Eng- 
land antl the United States, yet the Ameri- 
can Lutheran Church profess to hold that 
the Sabbath was instituted at the creation of 
man ; that the generic idea of devoting one 
day of tlie week to rest from labor, and to 
religious duties, pertains to the entire race 
through all time ; and that the law of the 
Sabbath, so far as it is not determinative and 
typical, is binding on Christians. 

"■Divine Worship. The Lutheran Church 
regards preaching as an indispensable part 
of divine service. All worship is to be in 
the veinacular ; the wants of the heart as 
well as of the reason are to be met. What- 
ever of the past is spiritual, beautiful, and 
appropriate, is to be retained. The Church 
year, with its great festivals, is kept. With 
various national diversities, there is a sub- 
stantial agreement in the liturgical services 
of the Lutheran Church, throughout almost 
all the world. The hymns are sung by all 
the people, with the organ accompaniment." 
The hymnology of the Lutheran Church sur- 
passes that of all other churches in the world 
in sweetness, richness, power, and unction. 
Even in ttieir English dress there are few 
hymns more beautiful or soul-inspiring than 
Luther's " A strong fortress is our God," or 
" O ! Head, so bruised and wounded," or 
*' Jerusalem, the Golden." 

" The clergymen in their official functions, 
wear a distinctive dress, usually a black robe, 



with the bands. A preparatory service pre- 
cedes communion. The doctrine and prac- 
tice of auricular confession were rejected in 
the beginning. The " private confession," 
which was established in some parts of the 
Church, involves no enumeration or confes- 
sion of particular sins whatever, unless the 
communicant desires to speak of them ; and 
the '• private absolution " is simply the an- 
nunciation of the gospel promise, with the 
gospel conditions to the individual penitent. 
But even in this form, private confession has 
ceased in most parts of the church. The 
practice of exorcism in baptism, simply as a 
rite long established, and which might be 
tolerated if regarded merely as a symbolical 
representation of the doctrine that our nature 
is under the dominion of sin, was practised 
in parts of the church, but has fallen almost 
everywhere into oblivion. 

Constitution or Polity of the Church. 
" Many embarrassing circumstances prevent- 
ed the Lutheran Church from developing her 
life as perfectly in her church constitution, 
as in her doctrines and worship. The idea 
of tlie universal priesthood of all believers, 
at once overthrew the doctrine of a distinc- 
tion of essence between clergy and laity. 
(This doctrine is, nevertheless, maintained 
in one or two of the American synods. — 
Editor.) The ministry is not an order, but 
it is a divinely appointed office, to which 
men must be rightly called. No imparity 
exists by divine right ; a hierarchical organi- 
zation is unchristian, but a gradation (bish- 
ops, superintendents, provosts,) may be ob- 
served, as a thing of human right only. (In 
the United States, the Lutheran Church has 
no bishops, superintendents, or pi'ovosts. — 
Editor.) The government by consistories 
has been very general. In Denmark, Evan- 
gelical bishops took the place of Roman 
Catholic prelates who were deposed. In 
Sweden, the bishops embraced the Reforma- 
tion, and thus secured in that country an 
" apostolic succession," in the High Church 
sense ; though, on the principles of the Luth- 
eran Church,. alike where she has, as where 
she has not such a succession, it is not re- 
garded as essential even to the order of the 
church. The ultimate source of power is in 
the congregation, that is, in the pastor and 
other officers of the church, and the people 
of the single communions. Tiie right to 
choose a pastor belongs to the people, who 
may exercise it by direct vote, or delegate it 
to their representatives. Synods possess 



HISTORY AND FROGRESS OF THE IUFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



641 



such j>owpr as (he congregations delegate to 
them. " Ministers are rehjted to congrega- 
tions, not as their servants, but as the serv- 
ants of the church, ami in the United States 
where the Congregational princii)le has been 
more radically developed than anywhere 
else in the Lutheran Church, "the Synod to 
vhich pastors belong has the entire jurisdic- 
tion over them." (See Formula of the 
Lutheran Church. Clia|). iii, 3.) Absolute 
ministerial parity is maintained, and lay rep- 
resentation is univerul ; but many vital 
points of church organizations are entirely 
unsettled, and the doctrine that synods are 
merely advisory bodies," is often pressed in 
a way that tends to anarchy. 

The Lutheran Church in the United States 
is divided into the following organizations : 
1st, The General Synod, founded in 1820, 
and comprising in 1870, twenty Synods, viz* 
the Synods of Maryland. West Pennsylvania, 
Hartwick, East Ohio, Frankean, Alleghany, 
East Pennsylvania, Miami, Wittenberg, 
Olive, Northern Illinois, Southern Illinois. 
Central Pennsylvania, English Synod of 
Iowa, Northern Indiana, New Jersey, Cen- 
tral Illinois, New York, Sus(jnelianna, Pitts- 
burgh, and Kansas, Tlie General Synod 
recognizes the Ang-burg Confession, but al- 
lows considerable liberty of doctrinal views 
in its interpretation. It formerly had more 
synods connected with it, but six southern 
synod-:, subsequently increased to seven, se- 
ceded during the war and formed the South 
ERN Gkneual .Synod. Their action was 
based on the resolutions of loyalty to the 
Government expressed by the General Syn 
od, but they are said to have adheivd more 
closely to the standards, and to have been 
more strict in regard to the qualifications of 
membership tlian the Old Synod. The 
Northern General Synod had, in 1 870, 627 
ministers, 1,(!()7 churches, and 10.'5.042 com- 
municants. The Southern General Synod, 
organized in 1862, had at the same time: 
12(5 ministers, 22.3 churches, and 20,79G com 
municants. 

A much younger body, and yet having a 
larger memb('r>hij), is the General Coun- 
cil, organized in I8G7. The General Coun- 
cil adheres to the entire body of standards 
contained in the " Book of Concord," which 
they declare- to be accepted by them as be- 
ing in full accord with the Scriptures. It 
compiiscs twelve Synods, viz : The New 
York Ministerium, the Synod of Pennsylva- 
nia, a Pittsburgh Synod, the English District 



Synod of Ohio, the English Synod of Ohio, 
the Synod of Illinois, the Synod of INIichigan, 
the German Synod of Iowa, the Synod of 
Minnesota, the Scandinavian Augustana 
Synod, the Synod of Texas, and the Synod 
of Canada. These Synods had in 1870,535 
ministers, 986 churches, and 131,632 mem- 
bers. 

Six other Synods, viz : IMissouri. Ohio, 
Wisconsin, the Norwegian, Grabairs-Iluiralo 
Synod, and the German Synod of New 
York, agree very fully in doctrines with each 
other, except that the last two named have 
some peculiar views in regard to the status of 
the Christian ministry. They differ from 
the General Council in these four points : 
they desire to prohibit an interchange of pul- 
pits with all other denominations, and admis- 
sion to the Lord's Supper ; th(;y condemn 
Millenarianism, and excommun cate from 
their fellowship all members of secret socie- 
ties. Their numbers, in 1870, were as fol- 
lows : ministers, 650; churches, 965; com- 
municants, 150.925. These synods will prob- 
ably soon be united in one organization. 

The following synods, all small, are still 
independent, but will probably soon be con- 
nected with some one of the larger bodies : 
The Tennessee, Von Rohr's Buffalo Synod, 
the Concordia, Eielson's Scandinavian Synod, 
and the Norwegian Danish Conference. 
These synods had in 1870, 70 ministers, 218 
churches, 18,327 members. There were, 
besides, 30 ministers whose synodal connec- 
tion was unascertained. There were, there- 
fore, in 1870, connected with the different 
councils, synods, and conferences of the 
Lutheran Church in the United States, 53 
synods, 2,086 ministers, 3,54-4 churches, and 
425,577 communicants. The other statistics 
of the Church are partial, and not later than 
1869. The General Synod had in that year, 
81,445 teachers and scholars in its Sabbath 
Schools, and contributed to benevolent ob- 
jects $340,133. The contributions of the 
other branches of the chuich are not report- 
ed. 

Thirty-two Lutheran newspapers were 
published in 1870, viz: Eight English, six- 
teen German, two Swedish, and six Norwe- 
gian and Danish. There are two Lutheran 
Church Almanacs published aniuially, one at 
Baltimore, the other at Alleniown, Pa. 
There are 15 Theological seminaries for 
Lutheran students, with about 60 professors, 
and 450 students, and 17 colleges with more 
than 2,000 students. There are also 18 sem- 



542 



IllSTOltY ANU PUOGKKSS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



inaries or academies of" high grade under 
their control. 



VIII THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS OR 
QUAKERS. 

I. The Original or Orthodox 
Friends. The Society of Friends originated 
in the earl v part of the seventeenih century, in 
Great Britain, as one of those protests against 
formalism and Christianity from which the 
heart and life had died out, which have in all 
ages demonstrated the power of religious 
principle to react from the deadness of state 
churches. George Fox, its founder, com- 
menced proclaiming the doctrines of the 
]X)wer of Christ to save men from sin, and 
the influence of the Holy Spirit in changing 
and transforming the evil nature, when he 
was but twenty three years of age, and con- 
tituied it for forty years, until his death. His 
followers were not very numerous, but they 
were exceedingly earnest, stern in their 
adherence to what they believed to be the 
monitions of the Holy Spirit, and when per- 
secuted, took joyfully the spoiling of their 
goods, and went to prison, to the stake, or to 
the gallows with a calm fearlessness which 
convinced many of the truth of their doc- 
trines. It was not in England alone that 
they were thus persecuted. In July, 1656. 
two female members of the Society of 
Friends reached the port of Boston, but 
were compelled by the colonial government 
to return in the same ship. Others, however, 
followed soon after, and while tiieir conscien- 
tious protest against the prevalent customs 
and manners may have savored of fanaticism, 
the colonial authorities were certainly in the 
wrong in persecu'ing them so bitterly. They 
were whipped, imprisoned, and banisjied from 
the Massachusetts Colony, and four out of 
five who ventured to return from banish- 
ment, one of 'hem a woman of remarkable 
gifts and devotion, were hanged fi:)r their 
contempt of the colonial laws. The last 
martyr of the Society of Friends in America 
was executed in 1661, but subsequent to that 
date .some weie whipped, banished, and im- 
prisoned, in the colonies of Massachusetts 
and Connecticut. In 1682, a considerable 
inunber of Friends came over to Pennsyl- 
vania with William Penn, himself a mem- 
ber of the Society. Fox had himself visited 
Ami-rica in 166'.), and remaiiKHl till 1673, 
and had established meetings of Friends in 
North Carolina and elsewhere, .some of which 



are still in existence. The Society of 
Friends in America adheres, to this day, to 
the organization devised for it by Fox. 
Their meetings, as they call their congrega- 
tions, are presided over by Elders, and these 
the most prudent and judicious men of these 
congregations, exercise a quiet, but effective, 
supervision over those who believe them- 
selves called of God to proclaim his truth. 
The utterances of this truth nuide as the re- 
sult of a special impulse or call of the Spirit 
then and there to spenk, are made by both 
sexes, the doctrine of the Friends on this sub- 
ject being, that God calls both men and women 
to utter his truths. The meetings are sub- 
ject to monthly meetings of the different 
congregations of a neighborhood or district, 
and these to the "• Yearly Meetings," which 
are diocesan in their character, and have a 
controlling and disciplinary power. These 
Yearly Meetings, of which there are ten or 
more, are equal in their authirity, and there 
is no appeal from their decisions. 

At the time of the commencement of the 
Revolutionary War, there were vb .ut 45,0i)0 
Friends in the thirteen colonies, and as they 
were opposed to bearing arms, and utterly 
refused to take part in the War, there was at 
first some apprehi-nsion that they were hos- 
tile to the patriot side. This impression was 
soon dissipated; fur though, with some few 
exceptions, the members of the society d d 
not bear arms, they rendered great and con., 
spicuous service to the national cause, and 
this service was rendered witii such sacrifices 
and with so much liberality as to show that 
their hearts were in the cause, though they 
were conscientiously opposed to fighting. For 
two or three decades after the war, they con- 
timied to increase, though not very rapidly. 
Then came a season of stagnation. Tiiey, 
who, in the beginning of their history, had 
been the most radical of ladicals, were now 
intensel}^ conservative ; and while as holy 
men anl women as ever walked the earth 
shaded their brows beneath broad brimmed 
hats and Quaker bonnets, and adhered strictly 
to the Quaker dress, there had come ovei' the 
society a spirit of formalism, which occupied 
itself too much in the petty de:ails of dress 
and hingnage, and neglected, to some extent, 
the weightier matters of law, judgment, and 
faith. Their services had beeoine distasteful 
to many of their young people, and these 
were al)andoning the f;uth of their fathi'rs 
and going to the oi)posite extreme of Ritual- 
istic observance iu the Episcopal Church, or^ 



niSTORT AXD PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATION'S. 



543 



in still stronger protest against its stringent 
rules of life, became the most worldly of 
worldlings, till it became a byeword in re- 
gard to the fastest of fast young men, " They 
were brought up as Quakers ! Meanwhile, 
there was in the meetings themselves a grad- 
ual drawing away from (he soundness of 
their pristine faith. There were not, as of 
old, those fervent, earnest testimonies ; the 
Spirit's power of impressing men and women 
to utter the word of exhortation came to be 
less frequently and less decidedly manifested 
than of old, and ever and anon there were 
those mute, but protracted, assemblies which 
bore witness more powerfully than any pro- 
phetic titterance could hav(! done, that it was 
not with them as in days past, wh(>n the can- 
dle of the Lord sinned around about them. 
In 1827 came the great secession, when al- 
most one-third of their number repudiated 
the claims of Chri-t, as •the God-man, the 
Divine Redeemer, and, while still claiming 
to be " Friends," withdrew with their leader 
and formed a new organization. For more 
than twenty years thai followed, the 'Friends' 
of the Oitliodox faith still walked in the wil- 
derness, amid clouds and darkness ; still their 
sons and daugh ers fell away to the vvorUl, 
and their numbers decreased or remained 
stationary. 

l>ut at length the time of refreshing came, 
and as the tesiinionies to (Jod's goodness and 
grace multiplied, and their meetings were no 
longer silent and dienry as of old, they be- 
gin to extend tlicir inliuence, and to find in 
active work for Christ, in the First Day 
Schools, in the distribution of the Word of 
God, in laliors for the poor, oppressed, and 
down trodden, the true secret of success. 
Since 18")U, their numbers have nearly 
doubled, and in the work of religious instruc- 
tion, antl vigorous efforts for the conversion 
of men, they have found such blessings that 
tli(iy have become an aggi-essive, earnest, and 
eflicient body of Chi'i-tian men and women. 

" Tiie Society of Friends," says Mr. Wil- 
liam J. Allinson, editor of Tlio Friends' Re- 
view, '* is no at issue with other Orthodox 
churches on tiie gt-ne: al points of Christian 
doctrine. Avoiding the use of the word 
Trinity, they reverently believe in the Holy 
Threes : the Fa her, the Lo.d Jesus Christ, 
the only l»egotten of the Father, by whom 
are all things, who is the Mediator between 
God and man, and in the Holy Spirit, who 
p'oceedeth from the Fatii'-r and Son — (Jni; 
God, blessed forever. They accept, in its 



fullness, the testimony of Holy Scripture 
with regard to the nature and otlices of Christ, 
as the promised Messiah, tlie Word made 
flesh, the atonement for sin, the Saviour and 
Redeemer of the world. They have no re- 
liance upon any other name, no hope of sal- 
vation tliat is not based upon his meritorious 
death on the cross. As fully do they admit 
his humanity, and that he was truly man, 
"sin only excepted." They so fully believe 
in the Holy Spirit of Christ, that without the 
inward revelation thereof they feel that they 
can do nothing to God's glory, or to further 
the salvation of their own souls. Without 
the influence thereof they know not how to 
approach the Father, through the Son, nor 
what to |)ray for as they ought. Their 
wliole code of belief calls for the entire sur- 
rendtir of the natural will to the guidance of 
the pure, unerring Spirit, through whose 
renewed assistance they are enabled to bring 
forth fruits unto holiness, and to stand per- 
fect in their present work. As it was the 
design of Christ in going to the Father, to 
send, as a Comforter, his Spirit to his disci- 
ples, so it is with his Spirit that he baptized 
and doth baptize them, it being impossilJe, 
in the estimation of the Friends, that an out- 
ward ablution should wash from the spirit of 
man the stains o sin. Hence they attach 
importance to " the baptism which now 
saveth," and which John the Baptist pre- 
dicted should be administered by Christ. 
And it is by his Spirit, also, that his f(>llow- 
ers are enabled to partake of the true Sup- 
per of the Lord : " Behold I stand at the 
door and kno k: if any man hear my voice, 
and open unto me, I will lome in and sup 
with him, and he shall sup with me." Thus 
they liold that the coming of the Lord Jesus 
Christ in the Hesh was the grand e|ioch and 
central fact of lime, and tliat tyi»es and shad- 
ows, and all ceremonial observances, which 
had their place before, as shadows of good 
things to come, now that they have been ful- 
filled in llim, are oidy shadows of tho-e 
sliadows. The type propeily precedes the 
real ty, and truly this was woitiiy of being 
fo ehadowed ; " but," says Paul, " when that 
which is perfect is come, that which is in 
pait shall be done away." 

In regard to their views of the re-urrec- 
tion, Thomas Kvans, another of iheir lead- 
ing wi-iters, says: "The S<iciety of Friends, 
believes' that there will be a resurrection 
botli of tiie li.diteous and ihe wicked; the 
one to eternal life and blessedness, and 



544 



HISTOKY AND PKOGRIiSS OF THE DIFFKRKNT DENOMINATIONS. 



the other to everlasting misery and torment, 
agreeably to Matt. XXV, 31-45; John V, 
2o-30 ; i Cor. XV. 1 2-58. That God will 
judge the world by that man whom he hath 
oidaint'd, even Christ Jesus the Lord, who 
will render unto every man according to his 
works; to them who by patient continuing 
in well doing during this life, seek for glory 
and honor, immortality and eternal life ; but 
imto the contentious and disobedient, who 
obey not the truth, but obey unrighteousness, 
indignation and wrath, tribulation and an- 
guisli, upon every soul of man that siuneth, 
lor God is no respecter of persons." 

Tlie Friends have ever regarded war as 
inconsistent with Christianity. For this they 
refer to the teachings of Christ and his apos- 
tles, the example of the early Christians, and 
to the witness tor trutli m their own con- 
sciences, tested and confirmed by the sacred 
writings. They find that all the emotions 
which are exercised in wars and fightings are 
ti-accd to evil lusts, and are inconsistent with 
love which is tho substance ot the first, the 
second, and the new commandment, wliich 
" worketh no ill to his neiglibor," and on 
which '■ hang all ilie law and the prophets." 
They consider oaths to be inadmissible, as 
being positively forbidden by our Lord in 
language not to be mistaken, and this testi- 
mony was made the occasion of inflicting se- 
vere penalties upon the first Friends. When 
their persecutors failed to convict them upon 
false charges, it was customary to administer 
the test oaths to them, on refusing to take 
which, they were cast into prison. 

They decline to use the complimentary 
and false language of the world, and to apply 
to the months and davs, the names given in 
lionor of pagan gods, preferring the numeri- 
cal nomenclature adopted in the Scriptures. 
In dress, they aim at plainness and simplicity, 
avoiding the tyranny of an ever changing 
fashion. As a natural result, a degree of 
uniformity of dress prevails among them, 
bearing much resemblance to the style in 
vogue at the rise of the Society. This ap- 
proach to uniformity, which at first was unin- 
tcn.iunal, came to lie cherished as a hedge of 
defense against worldly and ensnaring asso- 
cuitions. and a means by which they recog- 
nized each other. The principle at stake is 
not m the fashion of a garb, but in simplicity 
and ihe avoidance of changes of feshion. 
Whil.-t Friiiids, as good citizens, have cheer- 
fuliv paid all legal assessments for the sup- 
poit of public schools, and of the poor, and 



have contributed abundantly to the various 
charities, and general claims of benevolence, 
they have always been characterized by their 
scrupulous care in relieving their own poor, 
so that none of their members come upon 
the public for maintenance or gratuitous 
education. 

The Friends had, in 1870, including one 
in Canada, ten Yearly Meetings in North 
America, namely, those of Canada, New 
England, New York, Philadelphia, Balti- 
more, North Carolina, Ohio, Indiana, West- 
ern Indiana, and Iowa. The increase of 
membership in the Western States has been 
very rapid of late years. The membership 
of the Society is estimated at 80,0UO. In all 
the Yearly Meetings, First Day Schools are 
conducted with zeal and efficiency. The 
number of teachers and scholars in these 
First Day Schools is about 65,000. The 
North Carolina Yearly Meeting has estab- 
lished a Normal First Day School, for the 
training of teachers of^ these Schools. They 
have three colleges, all of them of iiigh char- 
acter for their thorough scholarship, viz. : 
Haverford College, in Philadelphia county, 
Penn. ; Earlhani College, Richmond, Indiana, 
and Whittier College, Salem, Iowa. They 
have, also, large and admirably conducted 
boarding schools, under the care of their 
Yearly Meetings, at West Town, Pa., Prov- 
idence, R. I., Union Springs, N. Y., and New 
Garden, N. C They have two or three 
peiiodicals of marked ability, T7ie Friends' 
Revieio, conducted by Mr. Allinson, being in 
literary merit not inferior to any religious 
review in this country. 

11. The Society of Friends (Seced- 
ERS or Hicksites). We have already re- 
ferred to the schism or secession which took 
place from the Society of Friends, beginning 
with the Philadelphia Yearly Meeting, in 
1827. This secession was led by a preacher 
among the Friends, named Elias Hicks, and 
hence those who have followed his leading 
are commonly called Hicksites, though thi-y 
repudiate the name and insist that they 
should be known solely as the Society of 
Friends. The points of difference between 
them and the Orthodox Friends seem to have 
been these : Hicks and his followers, while 
maintaining a belief in the authenticity and 
divine authority of the Scriptures, yet do not 
regard them with the same degree of rever- 
ence and faith as the Orthodox. In their 
authorizftd summaries of Christian doctrine 
and the "advices of their Yearly Meetings," 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OP THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



545 



tliey say : ''We acknowledge them to be the 
only fit outward test of Christian doctrines. 
We do not call them the Word of God, be- 
cause this appellation is applied by the writ- 
ers of the Scriptures to that Eternal Power 

by which the worlds were made 

We assign to the Sciiptures all the authority 

they claim lor themselves In 

these invaluable writings we find the only 
authentic record of the early history of our 
race, the purest strains of devotional poetry, 
and the sulilime discourses of the Son of God. 
Their frequent perusal was therefore especi- 
ally urged upon our younger members, who 
were encouraged to seek lor the guidance of 
divine grace, by which alone we realize in 
our exj)ericnce the saving truths they con- 
tarn We believe it not the 

part of true wisdom to dwell upon defects, 
whether real or imaginary, in the sacred rec- 
ords, but rather to use them as they were 
intended, * for reproof, for correction, for in- 
struction in righteousness,' remembering that 
it is only through the operations of the Spir- 
it, of Faitli upon our hearts, that they can be 
made availing to us in the promotion of our 
salvation." 

In regard to the original and present state 
of man, they differ somewhat from the Ortho- 
dox, as the following extracts show : " It is 
a scriptuial doctrine that neither righteous- 
ness nor unrighteousness can be transmitted 
by inheritance, but every man shall be judged 
according to his deeds Ani- 
mal propensities may be transmitted from 
parents to children, but the Scriptures do not 
teach that we inherit any guilt from Adam, 
or from any of our ancestors ; nor do we feel 
any compunction for their sins. The lan- 
guage of our Saviour clearly implies that lit- 
tle children are innocent: " for of such," he 
says, "is the kingdom of heaven." 

The followers of Hicks are generally con- 
sidered Unitarians or Socinians, and yet, j 
while they aj)i)arently do not regard Christ ' 
as the Second Person in the Divine Trinity, 
nor attriljute a saviiig elficacy to his death 
and sufferings, we are inclined to the belief 
that there is a consideralilo variety in the 
views of the individual members of the Soci- 
ety, and, perhajis, even among their leading 
or representative men on this point. Their 
'• summaries," and " advices " are exceeding- 
ly vague, and sometimes conflicting, on these 
points. The Kulcs of Discipline of the Phil- 
adel|)hia Yearly fleeting, say: "If any in 
meuibership with us shall blaspheme, or 
33* 



s|)eak profanely of Almighty God. Christ 
Jesus or the Holy Spirit, lie or she ought 
early to be tenderly treated with, for their in- 
struction, and the announcement of their un- 
derstanding, that they may experit nee repent- 
ance and forgiveness ; but should any, not- 
withstanding thins brotherly labor, jtersist in 
their error, or deny the divhiity of our Lord 
and Saviour, Jesus Christ, the immediate 
revelation of the Holy Spirit, or the authen- 
ticity of the Scriptures, as it is manifest they 
arc not one in the faith with us, the numthly 
meeting where the party belongs, having ex- 
tended due care for the Iielp and benefit of 
the individual without effect, ought to declare 
the same, and issue their lestmiony accord- 
ingly." Samuel M Janney, author of the 
" History of Friends," and one of the leading 
writers of the Seceding party, thus defines 
their views in regard to Christ : " The most 
full and glorious manifestation of the divine 
Word, or Logos, was in Jesus Christ, the 
immaculate Son of God, who was miracu- 
lously conceived and born of a Virgin. In 
him, the manhood, or Son of Man was en- 
tirely subject to the divinity. The Word 
took flesh, or was manifested in the ffesh. . 

The holy manhood of Christ, 

that is, the soul of him in whom the Holy 
Spirit dwelt without measure, is now, and 
always will be, the head or chief member of 
that spiritual body which is made np of the 
faithful seravnts of God, of all ages and 
nations. 'There is one God, and one Medi- 
ator between God and man, tlie man Christ 
Jesus.' As Moses was a mediator to ordain 
the legal dis^iensation, so Jesus Christ was,, 
and is, the Mediator of the New Covenant;, 
first, to proclaim and exemplify it in the day 
of his outward advent, and secondly, thiough 
all time, in the ministrations of his Spirit. 
. . . , Ttie great object of the IVle-siah's 
advent, is thus declared by himself: "To this 
end was I born, and for this cause came I 
into the world, that I should bear witness 
unto the truth. Every one that is of ihe 
truih, heareth my voice.' He cuuld not bear 
witness to the truth, among that corrupt and 
perverse people, w ithout suffering for it. He 
foresaw that they would put him to death, 
and he went forward calmly doing his Fath- 
er's will, hading a life of self sacrifice, 
wounded for the transgressions of the peo- 
ple, baptized si)iritually in suffering for them, 
and then finally enduring, on the cross, the 
agonies of a lingering death, thus sealing his 
testimony with his blood. His obedience in 



546 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



drinking the cup of suffering was acceptable 
to God, lor ' he hath loved us, and hath given 
hira-^elf for us, an olieritig and a sacrifice to 
God, for a sweet smelling savor." It was to 
reconcile man to God, by removing the en- 
mity fVo!Ti man's heart, that Jesus Christ 
lived, and taught, and suffered, and for this 
purpose the Spirit of Christ is still manifest- 
ed as a Redeemer from the bondage of cor- 
ruption It is the life of God, 

or spirit of Truth revealed in the soul, which 
purities and saves from sin. This life is 
sometimes spoken of as the blood: for accord- 
ing to the Mosaic law, ' tJie bhod is the life.' 
And when Jesus told the people, ' except ye 
eat the flesh of the Son of Man, and drink 
his blood ye have no life in you,' he alluded 
to the life and power of God that dwelt in 
him, and s])ake through him." How far the 
views tlius stated agree with those generally 
held by the fijllowers of Ellas Hicks, we can- 
not say. They would seem to stamp Mr. .Tan- 
ney and his fellow believers as s^ympathizing 
Avith what is sometimes called the Evangelical 
wing of the Unitarians. In their other views, 
the iSeceders do not differ materially from 
the Ortliodox Friends. They have been, for 
some years past, quite active in humanitarian 
enterprises, being strongly anti-slavery, and 
li iving been active in the promotion of asy- 
lums and hospitals for the insane, the inebri- 
ate, the idiot, and for orphans, blind persons, 
and the aged and infirm. They had in 187<), 
six Yearly Meeiings, and an estimated mem- 
bership of between ;35,0()() and 4(1,000. 'i'liey 
have not done murh in the way of establish- 
ing First Day Schools, but their boarding 
and higli schouls in New York, Philadelphia. 
Baltimore, and Richmond, Indiana, as well 
as their smaller schools, are of ver}^ high 
character. Swarthmore College, 8 miles .S. 
W. of Philadelphia, is a well endowed and 
admirably managed institution, designed for 
yoO pupils, of both sexes. They have two 
or tliree well conducted periodicals. 

III. Pro(;kessive Fkiknds. This is a 
religious society, organized in 1853, at Ches- 
ter, Penn., in part as a result of a division in 
the Keimett >Ionthly JNIeeting, of (Hicksite) 
Friends. The division was caused by a dif- 
ference of o[)inion among the members of 
that nie(!ting, in regard to the propriety of 
activity in measures of reform. It was or- 
ganized as the Peimsylvania Yearly Meeting 
of Progressive Friends, and not long after 
other organizations in New York and Ohio, 
having similar objects in view, as well as 



individuals from Now England, New Y^ork> 
and the Western States, who sympathized 
with it, gradually drifted into a similar 
organization so far as to attend its Yearly 
Meetings. Mr. Oliver Johnson, foi-merly of 
the National Anti-Slavery Standard, and the 
Independent, who has been long identified 
with this movement, thus defines its charac- 
ter and principles : " The new Society open- 
ed its doors to all who recognize the equal 
brotherhood of the human family, without 
regard to sex, color, or condition, and who 
acknowledged the duty of defining and illus- 
trating their faith in God, not by assent to a 
creed, but by lives of pergonal purity, and 
works of beneficence and charity. It disa- 
vowed any intention or expectation of bind- 
ing its members together by agreement as to 
theological opinions, and declared that it 
would seek its bond of union in ' identity of 
object, oneness of spirit in respect to the 
practical duties of life, the communion of soul 
with sold in a common love of the beautiful 
and true, and a common aspiration after 
moral excellence.' It disclaimed all discip- 
linary authority, whether over individual 
members or local associations ; it set forth no 
foi'ms or ceremonies, and made no provision 
for the ministry, as an order distinguished 
from the laity ; it set its face against every 
form of ecclesiasticism, and denounced as the 
acme of superstitious imposture, the claim of 
churches to hold an orgiuiic relation to 
God. and to speak by his authority, maintain- 
ing that such bodies are purely human, the 
repositories of no power save that rightly 
con!<3rred upon them by the individuals of 
whom they are composed." With so radical 
a platform, it is not a matter of surpri,>e that 
the yearly gatherings of this Society have 
drawn together ultraists of all shades, the 
" come outers " of thirty years ago, Spiritual- 
ists, the advocates of female suHrage, and of 
all manner of practicable and mipraciicable 
reforms, and that while, in the company, were 
many men of lofty purpose and the true mar- 
tyr spirit, there were others whose whole 
lives had been devoted to wild and fanatical 
theories in religions, politics, and social life. 
Generally these gatherings have been largely 
attended, but except a single local association 
at Longwood, near Hamortou, Penn., which 
have kept up for several years, a meeting on 
evrry First Day, and a First Day School for 
children, and discuss freely questions of ethics, 
political economy, and religion at their meet- 
ings, but have never employed any religious 



HISTORY AND PROGHESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



547 



teacher. It is obviously impossible to jjive 
any estimate of the number of Progressive 
Friends, as their meetings are open to all 
who choose to come, and there is no enroll- 
ment of membership. 

IV. We are inclined to place unchn* this 
general head, also, the SIIAKEKS, or as 
thf^y style themselves, the Unitku Society 
OF Believeus in Chuist's Second Ap- 
pearing, not because there is much in com- 
mon to them and the Society of Friends now, 
but because in their origin they were mem- 
bers of that Society, and because their views 
of the iiitluence, and inward teachings of the 
Holy Spirit, though carried to excess, have 
the same original basis. Attempts have 
been made to trace their principles back to 
the Camisards or French pro|)hets, and to 
the school of the prophets in Dauphiny 
(1688-170")), but these are so evidently an 
afterthought, as to be unworthy of notice. 
About 17-1:7, some members of the Society 
of Friends in the vicinity of Manchester, 
England, formed themselves into a distinct 
organization, of which James Wardley and 
Jane, his wife, were the leaders, and a Mr. 
and Mrs. Lee were members. Ann Lee, a 
daughter of the last named couple, born in 
1730, and always seriously inclined, had 
married, in 175G, Abraham Stanley, and in 
1758, she, with her husband, joined the asso- 
ciation. The religious exercises of this little 
coterie differed but slightly from those of the 
other associations of Friends at that time. 
They were noticeable for greater and more 
decided physical manifestations than most, 
such as dancing, shouting, trembling, speak- 
ing with tongues, but these were common in 
that day, and it was only when the excite- 
ment was so great as to lead the magistrates 
and others to charge them with breaking the 
Sabbath, that the Wardleys, and Ann Lee 
and her family were fined and imprisoned. 
In 1770, Ann Lee, then 34 years of age, and 
to all a[)j)earance a woman of no extraordin- 
ary talents or education, professed to have 
received, by a Sjiecial manifestation of divine 
light, those revelations which made her the 
founder of a new faith, and have caused her 
followers ever since to regard her as an in- 
spired being, and to give her the name of 
Mother Ami. 

In 1774, Mother Ann, and nine of the 
more prominent members of the Society, un- 
der authority of a special revelation, emi- 
gi'ated to America, and 8 of the number pro- 
ceeding up the Hudson, settled at Isiskayuna 



(now Watervliet), seven miles from Albaii}', 
N. Y., a region then a wilderness. Here 
they remained for three or four years with- 
out any excitement, or considerable increase 
of their numbers. In 177!), a religiousj-evi- 
val occurred at New Lebanon, Columl)ia Co., 
some thirty miles from Niskayuna, and was 
accompanied by those extraordinary ])hysic;d 
manifestations whicli a little later character- 
ized the great revivals in Kentucky and 
Tennessee. In the sj)ring of 1780, some of 
those who had been most aff(;cted by these 
manifestations, visited Mother Ann at Water- 
vliet, and fo.uiul in her revelations, as they 
believed, the ex])lanation of their experiences. 
Led by tluiir statements, others visited her, 
and the number of ailhei'ents to her doctriiu's 
began to increase rapidly, and continued to 
do so until some time after her death, which 
occurred in 1784. Among the revelations 
which she professed to have received was 
one directing that there should be a commu- 
nity of goods among her adherents, and an- 
other re(|uiring their organization into one or 
more unitary households. In 1787, Josei)h 
Meacham, who had formerly been a Baptist 
preacher, and who was one of her earliest 
converts at Niskayuna, gathered her adlier- 
ents into a settlement at New Lebimon, and 
established there the first unitary hou-ehold 
on a large scale, and with complete connnu- 
nity of goods. He was an able administrator, 
and in five years he had oi'ganized 1 1 Shaker 
settlements, in New York, Massachusetts, 
Connecticut, New TIain])sliire, and INIaine. 
No others were established until 180;>, when, 
after some years eflbrt, four were estalilished 
in Ohio, and 2 in Kentucky. All are on the 
same model as tliat of the New Lebanon 
Community, ivgarded from the first as the 
mother hou-e. Each settlement consists of 
from two to eight families or households. 
Each family occupies a large dwelling-house, 
divided through the center by wide h;dls. and 
capable of Cf)ntaining from 30 to 150 in- 
mates, the men occupying one end and the 
women tlie other. Beskie these, there are 
storehou-cs, workshops, dairy houses, a 
school house for the children theyi'.dopt, jind 
a meeting-house or hall. Considerald ■ tracts 
of land are attached to each settlement, rang- 
ing from seven to ten acres to each member. 
They believe idleness to be sinful, and 
hence every member who is able to work is 
employed in some useful labor. 'J'hey culti- 
vate flowers, medicinal herbs and roots, 
fruits, vegetables, and collect garden and 



548 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFEUENT DENOMINATIONS. 



flower seeds, dry and jjre^erve fruits, put up 
dried herbs and root*, and make medicinal 
extracts. They have also extensive manu- 
factories connected with their settlements. 
Brooms, wooden and willow ware, some de- 
scriptions of cloths, flannels, etc., etc., are pro- 
duced by them. Their schools are of high 
grade and abundantly supplied with the best 
text books, and apparatus. Their doctrines 
as ttated by their chief elder, F. W. Evans, 
are these : " God is dual, there being an 
Eternal Father and Mother in the Deity, 
the heavenly parents of all angelical and 
human beings. The revelation of God is 
progressive ; in the first or antediluvian pe- 
riod of human history, God was only known 
as a Great Spirit ; in ihe second or Jewish 
period, he was revealed as the " I am that I 
am," or Jehovah ; in the third cycle, Jesus 
made him known as a Father ; and in the 
last cycle, commen<ing with 1770, God is re- 
vealed in the character of Mother, an Eter- 
nal Moiher, the bearing spirit of all the cre- 
ation of God. This last is regarded by them 
as a revelation of God's affectional nature, a 
manifestation of the divine love and tender- 
ness. They believe Christ to be also dual, 
male and female, a supra-numdane being, 
and, at his first appearing, the cnmmunicator 
of the new revelation to Je-us, who, in their 
system, was a divinely instructed, pure, and 
perfect man, and Avho, in consequence of his 
divine anointing, became Jesus Christ. In 
the new revelation made to Jesus, these 
truths were first brought to light ; the im- 
mortality of the soul, and the resurrection of 
the soul, whirh they define a-* the quickening 
of the germ of a new life, after the death of 
the first, Adamic, or generative life. 

All who marry or are given in marriage, 
or who indulge in the earthly procreative 
relation, they call " the children of thi<^ 
world," and followers of the first Adam ; 
they do not condemn them for living in the 
marital relation so long as they confine its 
use simply to the purpose of procreation, the 
production of offspring being, in their view, 
tiie only justification of sexual intercourse. 
But Sliakers, as Christians, hold that they 
are called to lead a spiritual and holy life, 
not only free from all lust and carnal sexual 
ii.dulgence, but even to rise above the order 
o. natural and innocent human reproduction, 
being themselves the "children of the resur- 
rection," and as such daily dying to the gen- 
erative nature, as Jesus and the apostles 
died to it, and thus becoming new creatures, 



who are able to comprehend the " mysteries 
of God." Among the other doctrines in 
which, as they believe, " Christ instructs 
Jesus," were, human brotherhood, and its de- 
velopment in a community of goods ; non- 
resistance ; non-participation in any earthly 
government, and the necessity of a life of 
celibacy and virgin purity to a perfect (. hris- 
tianity. 

The second appealing of the Christ "with- 
out sin unto salvation," they believe took place 
through Mother Ann Lee, in 1 770. She, " by 
strictly obeying the light revealed in her, be- 
came righteous, even as Jesus was righteous. 
She acknowledged Jesus Christ as her Head 
and Lord, and formed the same character as a 
spiritual woman, that he did as a spiritual 
man." The necessity for a second appear- 
ing of Christ in the female form, resulted 
from the dual nature of Christ, and of the 
Deity. " Still it was not Jesus, nor Ann, 
but the principles already stated, which were 
the foundation of the Second Christian 
Church. Their importance is derived from 
the fact of their being the first man and the 
first woman perfectly identified with the 
principles and spirit of Christ." This sec- 
ond appearing of Christ they believe to be 
the true resurrection state, and rc|)udiate a 
jjhysical resurrection as repugnant to science, 
reason, and Scripture. We have noticed 
their four cycles of human religious progress; 
they also believe that there are four heavens 
and four hells, the first three of which are 
still places of probation. The first heaven 
and hell were for the good and wicked ( f 
the antediluvians, and the " spirits in pris- 
on," to whom Christ preached in the inter- 
val between his death and resurrection, were 
the wicked of that cycle. Gehenna is the 
name tliey give to the second hell, to which 
are consigned wicked Jews and heathen w ho 
died before the coming of Jesus ; and the 
second heaven is paradise, where the thi< f 
on the cross had the promise of going. Tiie 
third heaven is that of the church of the fiist 
appearing of Christ, to whi< h Paul was 
caught up. Higher and more glorious than 
those which preceded it. it is still not tl e 
home of perfect souls. Tlie hell of the tliii d 
cycle is a place of toiment for tlose who did 
not believe in, nor follow Christ, according 
to the light of those days. The fourtli hc:i- 
ven is now forming; in it .Tesus and Mother 
Ann reside, and to it will all tin se go who 
have resisted temptation until their evil lusts 
and propensities are all destroyed, and the 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF TIIK DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



i-19 



lif" of the genenitive, natural man is dead in 
them, for sucli are born of God, and cannot 
sill. No one but Jesus had ever attained to 
this previous to the second appearing of 
( inist in Ann Lee. It is the heaven of hea- 
V lis, and to it will be gathered not only all 
\\'lio aci'opt the doctrines of the Shakers iu 
this world, and attain to the new birth, but 
all those in the lower heavens and hells who 
shall yet accept them; and when their deci- 
sion is finally made, the lower heavens and 
hells, and tlie earth will be destroyed, and 
only the fourth heaven for the true believers, 
and the fourth hell for the finally impenitent, 
will remain. Each cycle has had its own 
Holy Spirit, the s|)iritual efliiix from the 
Churcli in the heaven of that cycle to the in- 
habitants of earth at the time. They hold 
to oral confession of sins to God in the pres- 
ence of one or two witnesses, as essential to 
the reception of the power to forsake sin. 
They believe that the second dispensation 
(that of Moses) was intended to teach by 
revelation, God's truth pertaining to the 
earth life chiefly, and they regard the princi- 
ples of the Levitical laws, in regard to food 
and agriculture, etc., as binding to-day as 
when they were given. All physical disease 
ttiey say, is the result of some physiological 
sin against the teachings of Moses, either di- 
rectly or indirectly. They believe in the 
power of their members to heal physical dis- 
eases, by means of prayer and the regulation 
of the diet. 

T!ie Bible they regard as a record of 
divine angelic ministrations to man, and as a 
more or less imperfect account of the reli- 
gious experience and histoiy of the Jews. 
They believe that the mental and spiritual 
co.'idition of tlie seers and prophets whose 
prophecies are i herein recorded, has materi- 
ally modified the revelation, and that it has 
been still farther weakened and impaired by 
the imperfections of the translators ; the book 
of Revelations having suffered less than any 
other from these causes, inasmuch as it is 
utterly incom|)rehensible to the generative 
man, and could not be comprehended even 
by the spiritual luitil the second appearing of 
Christ (through Mother Ann Lee), as that 
was tilt; only key to unlock its mysteries. 
'Fix; revelations of Ann Lee and of others of 
their elders who have been inspired to speak 
tlie words of God, tliey regard as important 
and binding on them. 

Their mode of worship is peculiar. The 
two sexes are usually ranged in ranks facing 



each other, the front ranks being from six to 
ten feet apart. First there is usually an ad- 
dress by one of the elders, " who is moved to 
speak" on some doctrinal subject, or some 
pra(;tical virtue, usually closing with a recital 
of the exalted privileges which they enjoy 
over the "• world's people ; " after this they sing 
a hymn, and then form in circles around a baiul 
of male and female singers, and commence 
marching or dancing, and when, as is some- 
times the case, the excitement and fervor 
reaches its height, their motions, though 
retaining the order and rhytlim of the dance, 
become inconceivatily rapid. At these sea- 
sons they believe themselves to be under the 
influence of spirit agencies, both of angels, 
and the departed members of their own 
brotherhood, who have attained in the other 
life to a greater freedom from the generati^ o 
nature and order, and a more complete res- 
urrection of the soul, than those who are still 
in the body can reach. Their ministry are 
very few in numbers. Two of their most 
judicious and experienced brethren and the 
same number of sisters are chosen to have 
the oversight of from one to three or four 
Societies ; so that there are only twenty or 
twenty-four of these ministers in all. Each 
family in every Society has also four elders, 
viz., two brethren, and two sisters, who have 
charge of it, and the temporalities are cared 
for by two deacons, and two deaconesses. 

There are three classes of members : 1 . 
The novitiates, who unite with the Society in 
religious faith and principle, but do not enter 
into the temporal connection with it. Believ- 
ers of this class are not controlled by the 
Society as to their property, children, or 
families. 

2. The Juniors, who join one of the families 
of the Society, and unite in its hibors and re- 
ligious exercises, but who have not relin- 
quished their property to the Society, or if 
they have given the Society the improve- 
ment of it, may resume it at any time, 
though W'ithoiit interest; and 3d, the Senior 
class, who, after a full and complete experi- 
ence of the Shaker system and faiih, liavc 
deliberately consecrated themselves, their ser- 
vices, and all their property to the Society 
never to be reclaimed liy themselves or their 
legal heirs. All who retain their connection 
with the Shaker Communities are amply 
provided for in health, in sickness, and in old 
age. The Shaker Communities are all thrifty 
and have accpiired by their industry, consid- 
erablcj and some of them very large anioiuitg 



5a0 



HISTORY AND PUOGRICSS OF THE DIFFERENT DKNOMINATIONS. 



of property. They had at the late-it reports, 
18 societies, about 6, jOO full ineinbers (Sen- 
i jr.-)), and, perhaps, 1,<K)0 more juniors and 
noviliates, besides a considerable number 
(nearly three thousand, it is said) of children, 
()i'[)lian-i, and o'hers, whom they have adopt- 
ed, and whom they carefully educate. They 
are tln-ifty, industrious citizen-, and in all 
the relations of life very exemplary. 



IX. UNITAS FRATRU.M, OR MORAVIANS. 
Tiiii Moravians, or Unity op thk 
IjIikthrkn ( Unitas Fratnim )y as they style 
their religious body, originated with the Bo- 
hemian and Moravian churches of the 9th 
century, but did not assume their present 
organization till 14.')7, although they identify 
themselves with the followers of John Huss 
more than half a century earlier. They were 
almost crushed out by the jiersecutions of 
Ferdinand II, in 1G21 and the following 
years, \n\t through the fostering influence of 
the wriiings and teachings of Amos Comen- 
ius, one of their bishops, they were enabled 
to maintain a secret ex stenoe. About 1720 
a iMoi'aviau exile, Christian David, began to 
ad lr(!ss them earnestly, and a revival ensued. 
In 1722, two families, subsecpiently followed 
by others, made their escape from IMoravia, 
and, al'ter a journey of eleven days, reached 
the estate of Count Zinzendorf, a young Sax- 
on nobleman, and were cordially received. 
Tiie Comit became thenceforth their leader, 
and in live years had ;^>()0 Muravians on his 
estate. They had built a village on the 
Ilulberg, called Ilerrnhut. In 1735, tl.ey 
had obiained the K|)iscopal succession of the 
Unitas Fratruin, and in 1741) they were ac- 
knowledged by the liritish Parliament as an 
Episcopal Church, and encouraged to settle 
in North America. The^y accoi'dingly foun- 
ded several settlements in the American Col- 
onies, and engaged with great zeal in mission- 
ary labors among the Indians, in which they 
were very succesful. They also founded 
missions in Givenland and elsewhere, many 
ye irs bef »re the other Protestant denomina- 
tions had engaged in missionary effort. 
Their plan of " settlements " or villages in 
which no person could be a |)ermanent 
h()u-;ehold(!r uidess he or she was a member 
of the Church, as well as their unitary house- 
hold of single men and youths, of single sis- 
ters and young maidens, and of widows, each 
presided over by (dd(;rs of flunr own sex, 
llieir very rigid rules in regard to marriage, 



and their exclusive and earnest devotion to 
the missionary work, while it kept their num- 
bers small, greatly contributed to their pu- 
rity of faith and doctrine. At the period of 
the Revolution, they [)robably did not num- 
ber, of full communicants, in the United 
State>, more than o,OUU souls, and, perhaps, 
not so many. They had, be.•^ide, their sev- 
eral thousand converts among the Indians, 
who remained faithful to their religions prin- 
ciples, and a considerable number of whom 
were martyrs to their fa'th. The distinctive 
settlements, and the brethren's, sisters', and 
widows' houses are now entirely given up in 
the United States. They have two prov- 
inces, a Northern, and a Southern, the head- 
quarters of the northern being at Bethlehem, 
Penn., and of the southern, at Salem, N. C. 
They have also large boarding schools, and 
are predominant in the population at Beth- 
lehem, Nazareth, and Litiz, Penn., and at 
Salem, N. C. 

The Moravians are thoroughly Evangelical 
in their doctrines, and while they syni|)athize 
most heartily and fully with the P^vangelical 
churches in all the great cardinal doctrines 
of scriptural Christianity, they r(^gard it as 
their special mission to make the principal 
tb(;me of their preaching and teaching, /the 
life, merits, acts, words, sufferings, and death 
of the Saviour; considering the revelation of 
God in Christ as intended to be the most 
beneficent revelation of the Deity to the 
human race. In thus preaching and teach- 
ing, they carefully avoid entering into any 
theoretical disquisition on the mysterious es- 
sence of the Godhead, simply adhering to the 
words of Scripture. Admitting the Sacied 
Scriptures as the only source of Divine Rev- 
elation, they nevertheless believe that the 
Spirit of God continues to lead those who 
believe in Christ, into all truth ; not by re- 
vealing new doctrines, but by teaching those 
who sincerely desire to learn, daily better to 
understand and apply the truths which the 
Scriptures contain. They believe that to 
live conformably to the gospel, it is essenti:d 
to aim in all things to fulfil the will of God. 
Even in their temporal concerns, they en- 
deavor to ascertain the will of the Lord. 
They do not, indeed, expect any miraculous 
manifestation of his will, but only endeavor 
to test the purity of their purposes by the 
light of the Divine Word. Nothing of con- 
sequence is done liy them, as a Society, until 
such an examination has taken place ; and 
[ in cases of diiliculty, the question is decided 



niSTOKY AND PROGRKSS OF TIIIC DITFEREXT DKNOMIXATIOXS. 



5r>i 



by ioi, 10 avoid the undue preponderance of 
iurincntial men, and in the humble hope that 
God will guide them riglitly by its decision, 
where their limited understanding tails them. 
In regard to their general, doctrinal belief, 
the following sunnnary, revised and jjut forth 
by their General bynod in 1801), is their 
most authoritative statement: 

" We regard every tmith revealed to us in 
the Word of God as an invaluable treasure, 
and sincerely believe that the loss of life it- 
self would be a triHing evil compared with 
the denial of any one of them. But most 
especially is this the case with that truth 
which the Kenewed Church of the Brethren 
has ever regarded as her chief doctrine, an 
inestimable jewel, which, by God's grace, she 
still holds tast : 

'That whosoe'er believeth in Christ's redemption, 
May find free <;race and a complete exemjition 
From serving sin.' 

From this great truth, we deduce the fol- 
lowing points of' doctrine most essential to 
salvation : 

a. The doctrine of the total depravity of hu- 
man nature, — that there is no health in us — 
and that, since ihe fall, we have no power to 
help ourselves oat of the bondage of sin. 

b. The doctrine of the love of God the 
Father, who 'has chosen us in Christ, before 
the foundation of the world,' and who 'so, 
loved the world that he gave his only begot- 
ten Son, that whosoever believeth on Him 
should not perish, but have everlasting life." 

c. The doctrine of the real Godhead, and 
the real manhood of Jesus Christ ; that God, 
the Creator of all things, was manifest in the 
flesh, and has reconciled the world unto him- 
self — that ' He is before all things, and by 
Him all things exist.' 

d. Tlie doctrine of the atonement and satis- 
faction of Jesus Christ for us ; that he ' was 
delivered for our offences, and was raised 
again for our justiiication,' and that in his 
merits alone we find forgiveness of sins and 
peace with God. 

e. The; doctrine of tJie Holy Ghost and his 
gracious operations ; that it is h(; who works 
in us the knowledge of sin, fiiith in Jesus, 
and the witness that we are the children of 
God, and that without him we cannot know 
the truth. 

/. The docirine o{ the fruits of faith; that 
it must show it<elf as an active principle, by 
a willing obedience to God's connnandments, 
flowing from love and gratitude, and that 



genuine faith will ever be thus distinguisha- 
ble." 

In their chuich polity, the IMoravians have 
points of similarity to several other denomi- 
nations ; they have bishops, presbyters, and 
tleaeonslike the Protestant E{)iscoi)al Church, 
but their bishops are not diocesan, but are 
appointed for the whole church ; they hold 
to Episcopal succession, which they derive 
through the Bohemian and Moravian 
churches, and which, if apostolical, comes 
through Paul instead of Peter ; but their 
bishops possess no governing power by vir- 
tue of their bishopric; it is the General Sy- 
nod and its boards that govern, and the bish- 
ops derive their ])ower, if they have any, 
from their connection with some of these 
boards; their presbyters or elders are preach- 
ers and pastors ; their deacons are young 
ministers and mi-sionaries, who can adminis- 
ter the sacraments alter receivhig their hr.-t 
ordination. They have a liturgy consisting 
of a litany, forms for infant and adult bap- 
tism (they are Piedo-baptists), the sacrament 
of the Lord's Supper, the rites of confirma- 
tion and ordination, the burial of the dead, 
and marriage. Love-feasts, the apostolical 
ogapce, are celebrated, and once a year, or 
ot'tener, there is the rite of " washing the 
saints' feet." Their General Synod, always 
held at Bethelsdorf, in Saxony, meets only 
once in ten or twelve years. It has cogniz* 
ance of the whole affairs of the " Unity of the 
Brethren ; " but in most matters, local 
Boards of Elders of the several provinces, 
have control in the interim of the sessions of 
the Synod. Each province has its synod, 
and its Provincial Elders' Conference, and 
these, and not the Bishops, manage all mat- 
ters connected with the Church in their ])ro- 
vince. The American province is divided 
into two districts, a northern and a southern. 
They are still very active in the n)issionary 
work, and have, in addition to their mission- 
aries among the heathen, nearly a hundred 
of their ministers wlio are serving in Luth- 
eran and Kefbimed diurehes. In these 
churches, there are many thousands who are 
almost as closely affiliated to them as their 
own members. Every church is divided 
into three classes : the Catechumens, eonniris- 
ing the children of the brethren, and adult 
converts; the Communicants, who are aihnit- 
ted to the Lord's Supper, and are itgarded 
as nuMubers of the church ; and The jierffct, 
consisting of those who have i)trsevcred for 



552 



HISTORY AXD PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



a long time in a course of true piety. From 
this last class are chosen in every church by 
a plurality of votes, the ciders, who are from 
three to eight in number. These elders are 
of bolh sexes, and are assistants to the pas- 
tors, in the general church work. 

The lalest statistics we have of the Mora- 
\'an Church are only to the close of 18G8. 
They had thru live bishops, one of whom has 
since deceased; fiG ministers ; 54 congrega- 
tions ; 6,768 commiuiicants ; 11.855 mem- 
bers, including baptized children, etc. ; 623 
Sunday School teachers, and 5.959 Sunday 
School scholars. Their boarding schools 
have increased to six by the addition of one 
at Cha-ka, Minn., and one in Bartholomew 
Co.. Ind. They have a theological school at 
Bethlehem, Penn. Their only periodical in 
the United States, T/ie Moraviau, is publish- 
ed at Bethlehem. There is no statement of 
the portion of the missionary work, or the 
missionary contributions from the American 
Moravian churches, the mission work being 
coiulucted from the headquarters in Saxony. 
Tlie entire contributions of the whole church 
for missionary purposes, (which had 15,176 
.communicants in 1868) was about $125,000. 



X. UNITARIANS and UNIVERSALISTS. 

I. UNITARIANS. The rejection of the 
doctrine of the Trinity, and the subordina- 
tion of the Son to the Father, with the ac- 
ceptance of the other doctrines which have 
been affiliated with it, has existed in one 
form or another since the second or third 
centuiy. At first it was Arianism, contend- 
ing that the expression, " only begotten Son 
of the Father," implies a beginning and a 
suboi-dination of the Son ; this view, though 
maintained even to the early part of the pres- 
ent century in some quarters, gave place gen- 
erally, to the slightly modified theories of 
Fau-tus and Laelius Socinus, in the 16th cen- 
tury, and these, though still prevalent on the 
continent of Europe, and largely held in the 
last century in England, by Priestley and his 
followers, liave in their turn been succeeded 
by the Unitarianism of Channing and his 
successors. Priestley's views, founded on the 
principles of the sensational philosophy, and 
accepting religious truths on the evidence of 
miracle, but limiting the number of those 
truihs to the cardinal doctrines, the unity of 
God, and the general resurrection, found 
some credence in the American Colonies 
aboui the middle of the last century. Priest- 



ley himself visited Philadelphia, in 1779. 
Emlyn's " Inquiry into the Scripture Ac- 
count of Jesus C^hiist," was published iu 
Boston, in 1756, and there was a gradual 
lapsing of very many of the clergy of Mas- 
.sachuseits into Arinn views in the latter part 
of the eighteenth century, the result in part, 
doubtless, of that looseness of doctrine which 
grew out of the adoption of the Halfway 
Covenant. Toward the close of the century, 
the tone of religious society in Boston was 
very generally Unitarian, repudiating the 
Divinity of Christ, and the necessity of an 
atoning sacrifice, but declining to enter into 
particulars in regard to the exact status of 
Christ in their religious system. In 1805, a 
Unitarian was elected professor of divinity in 
Harvard University. But as yet, there was 
no separation, and no lines were drawn, 
among the Congregationalists of Massachu- 
setts, between Orthodox and Unitarian. The 
separation came in 1815 and the following 
years, when the eloquent, Channing avowed 
his Unitarian views, and led offifrom 15,0()0 
to 20,000 members of the Congregational 
churches of Massachusetts, or nearly 200 
congregations. Channing was not an ultra- 
ist in his views, and his plan of withdrawing 
interest from points of controversial divinity, 
subordinating religious theories to the reli- 
gious life, and bringing into marked promi- 
nence the spiritual elements of human nature, 
and in this way initiating the practice of'try- 
ing religious systems by the instincts and 
sentiments of the soul, was exceedingly at- 
tractive to those restless spirits who had so 
long been in search of some faith which could 
satisfy their aesthetic nature, and quiet their 
perturbed spirits. But Channing's success- 
ors went farther than he, and many of them 
in a different direction. 

It is hard to define the Unitarian belief, 
because it is not, in any sense, a unity. 
While its adherents have some positive 
points of belief, in which, however, they 
widely disagree, their tenets are better ex- 
I)ressed by a series of negatives, than by pos- 
itive declarations, confessions, or creeds. 
Tiiey agree in holding to the Unity of God, 
and the subordination of the Son of God ; 
but while some of them do not attempt to 
define his rqal position in their religious sys- 
tem, others hold to every phase of belief 
from those who accept the Trinity in a phil- 
osojihical .sense, but reject the deity of Christ, 
to tho.se who hold him to have been mere 
man, a weak and peaceable man, or a myth. 



HISTORY AND r ".RKSS OF THE DIFFEKENT DENOMINATIONS. 



553 



A considerable number, though not a major- 
ity, believe him to bo a siiper-angelic being, 
divinely coniniissioned to be tiic mediator be- 
tween God and man ; others hold that he 
•was a teaclier, the proi-lut and founder of a 
new religious system ; the major part regard 
him as sinless and pure in his teachings and 
life, while a not inconsiderable minority class 
h'm with INIoses. Zartnsht, (lotama, Moham- 
med, and Swedcnborg, as a reformer, but by 
no means an infallible one. They generally 
regard tlie Holy Sjiiritas an inlluence, while 
some agree in rejecting, in whole or in part, 
the doctrines of man's <lepra\ ity and moral 
inability, but in regard to the atonement, 
they range all the way fioni a modified con- 
ception of Christ's oflic(> as a Redeemer and 
Saviour, to the o]>ini(iu that his whole func- 
tion was dscharged in his ollice of teacher, 
exemplar, or reformer. Very few Unitari- 
ans hold to the doctrine of eternal punish- 
ment of tlie wicked, but here again their 
views vary from those who believe in a pro- 
tracted period of retribution, to those who 
hold to a speedy re>toration, or those who 
entertain the dogma that the only retribu- 
tion for sin is in this life. In regard to the 
inspiration of the Scriptures, there is a simi- 
lar diversity of belief Chaniiing, Andrews, 
Korton, and the earlv American Unitarians, 
like their English and Polish brethren, held 
to the ])lenary inspiration of the Scriptures, 
and some of them wrote ably and eloquently 
in defence of the doctrine ; but the "Ad- 
vanced Unitarians" of the present day, "do 
not appeal to the Scri])tui<'s as inspired and 
infallible oracles, but discuss religious ques- 
tions on grounds of pliilo ophy alone. Re- 
garding the Bible as the nio-t interesting and 
valuable pfirt of the world's litei'ature, they 
seek in it illustrations of spiritual laws, but 
not final statements of moral and religious 
truth. To some, the Vedas and Shastas of 
the Hindoos, the Zendave^ta, the Koran, 
and the revelations ol' Swedcnborg, are of 
nearly equal authenticity and inspiration with 
the Bible. 

Unitarianism can hardly be said to have 
any distinctive ordinances or sacraments. 
The churches which first i^eparated from 
Trinitariiin Congregationalism. re(juired bap- 
tism both of infants and adults, and esj)eci- 
ally of the latter, but it had lost its signifi- 
cance with their changed views of the atone- 
ment, and now inf mt baptism is wbolly aban- 
doned, and adult baiJtisni only maintained in 
a few churches on sentiineniul ifrounds. The 



same may be said of the sacrament of the 
Lord's Supper. Wjiere practiced, it is only 
as a means of cultivatii g the religious life, 
and not as a sacrament at all. In their 
church polity, they are Congregationalists, 
with, perhaps, somewhat more independency 
than the Orthodox Congregationalists. Some 
of their churches have adopted a sort of lit- 
urgy, and maintain a vesper service of a 
musical and devotional character. They 
have, within the past fifteen or twenty years, 
manifested an increased spirit of projiagand- 
ism, disseminating Channing's woiks, and 
other Unitarian works itublished by the 
American Unitarian Association, and con- 
ducting some Home and Foreign missionary 
operations through their denominational or- 
ganization.s. '1 hiy have given increased at- 
tention to the pi'omotion of education, and 
have maintained among their clergymen that 
high reputation tor elegant belles-lettres at- 
tainments, and rhetorical ability, which have 
characterized them from the first. They 
have planted Unitarian Societies in most of 
the large cities throughout the country, and 
though their congregations are neither nu- 
merous nor large, they have collected in them 
a considerable number of men of fine culture 
and a'Sthetic tastes. Still Unitarianism 
proper can hardly be said to flourish out of 
New P^ngland, hardly, indeed, out of Massa- 
chusetts. Its adherents there and el.-e where 
deserve credit for their active hnmanitariau 
efforts. In rescuing vagrant and vicious 
children from the evil influence to which 
they are ex])osed, in caring for the aged and 
infirm, the sick and homeless, and esjjecially 
for their efforts in behalf of the sick and 
wounded soldiers of our late war, in connec- 
tion with the United States Sanitary Com- 
mission, and their earnest loyalty, the Uni- 
tarians are desc^rving of all honor. 

The Unitarians have under their control 
three colleges, viz : Harvard University, 
Cambridge, Ma>;s. ; Antioch College, Yellow 
Sj)rings, Ohio, and Humboldt College, Hum- 
boldt, Iowa. They have also three theologi- 
cal or Divinity Schools; viz: the Cambridge 
Divinity S<liool, with 5 professors, and cid 
students; the Boston School for the Minis- 
try, Boston, wiih 12 instructors, and 2.'5 stu- 
dents; and the Meadville Theological School, 
with 8 professors and '20 stu<ients. They had 
also one nearly organized at Chicago, previ- 
ous to the great fire. 

They had. in 1870, five periodicals : two 
monthlies, '' Old and JVeic," and the Monthhf 



554 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DTNOMINATIONS. 



Religious Magazine ; one semi-monthly, the 
Sunday School Gazette, and two weeklies, 
IVie Christian Register, and The Liberal 
Christian. Theii. statistics in 1870, were : 
one National Conference, 347 societies, 396 
ministers, of whom 148 were not in the pas- 
torate. These societies represent it is be- 
lieved, from 30,000 to 40,000 members, and 
an adherent popnlation of 60,O()0 to 8; •,000. 
The American Unitarian Association, which 
pnblishes denominational books and aids 
Unitarian educational institntions, has an 
annual income of $100,000 or over. They 
have four or five mission stations in India, 
also aided by this Association. There are 
Sunday vSchools attached to many of the 
societies, but no general statistics of them 
are published. In most of the cities there 
are Young IMen's Christian Unions, with 
libraries and reading rooms attached. 

II. UNI VERBALISTS. Though entirely 
distinct in their origin, and giving special 
prominence to a dogma which the Unitari- 
ans keej) partially in the background, there 
is really very little difference in the doctrinal 
belief of Unitarians and Universalists. At 
first they appealed to different -classes of so- 
ciety ; the Unitarians having among their 
adherents, especially in Massachusetts, a large 
proportion of the refined and scholarly class, 
and their discourses being models of graceful 
rhetoric, while the Universalists gathered 
into their congregations very considerable 
numbers of working men, sharp and ready 
reasoners, but with no great amount of cul- 
ture or refinement, and their preachers culti- 
vated the power of rough and ready declara- 
tion rather than the graces of oratory. There 
had been very few, if any, acknowledged 
Universalists in the American Colonies pri- 
or to 1770, though undoubtedly some promi- 
nent theologians had rather hoj)ed than be- 
lieved in the final restoration of those who 
had die! unpenitent. In that year, however, 
John INIurray, who had been an English 
Wesleyan preacher, but had become a con- 
vert to Universalist doctrines, as taught by 
one James Kelly, came over to America, and 
lauded in New Jersey. He soon went to 
Massachusetts and commenced a series of 
it nerant journeys through the states, preach- 
ing his views. At first, he did not make 
many converts, and it was not until 1779 
that the iirst Universalist Society was organ- 
ized, in Gloucester, Mass. In 1781, Rev. 
Elhanan "Winchester, a Baptist clergyman of 
Philadelphia, avowed his belief in the final 



restoration of the wicked to happiness and 
heaven, and organized a church of Restoi'a- 
tionists, in that city. From that time the 
Univer.-alists began to increase, their growth 
being promoted by the very strong opposition 
manifested towards them. In 1791, Rev. 
Ilosea Ballon, who had also been a Baptist 
minister, espoused the views of Murray, and 
advocated them with great vigor and earnest- 
ness. The growth of the denomination has 
been steady and considerably rapid during 
the present century. The most full and sat- 
isfactory exposition of the doctrines of the 
Universalists we have ever seen is that given 
by Rev. T. B. Thayer, one of their clergy- 
men, in the New Amei'ican Cycloptedia, Vol. 
XV, pp. 834. 835. It is as follows : I. They 
believe that God is infinite in all his perfec- 
tions, creating man with the fixed purpose 
that the existence he was about to bestow 
should prove a final and everlasting blessing ; 
that foreseeing all the temptations, trans- 
gressions, and struggles of man, he shaped 
his government, laws, and penalties with ex- 
press reference to these emergencies, and 
adapted the spiritual forces to the overcom- 
ing of all evil ; that, being almighty, he can 
convert and save a world of sinners as easily 
as he converted and saved Saul of Tarsus, 
or Matthew the publican, and without any 
more violation of free agency in one case 
than in the other. They also believe in the 
perfection of divine justice, and affirm, on 
this ground, that God would not impose on 
finite beings a law infinite in its demands i„nd 
penalties ; but that bt-ing j^erfecly just, he 
will deal with all men accuitling to their works, 
whether good or bad. 

II. They uniformly reject the doctrine of 
the Trinity, giving to Christ the second place, 
and making him subordinate to the Father. 
They believe that he is gifted with spirit 
and power above all other intelligences ; that 
he is " God manifest in the fiesh," i. e. that 
God has displayed in him the brightness of 
his glory, and the express image of Ids per- 
son, as in no other being tabernacled in 
flesh; that he was sent of God to be the 
Saviour of the world, and that he will actu- 
ally save it, because God would not offer, 
nor would Christ accept, a mission which 
both knew would end in failure ; therefore, 
they say, the work of redemption will be 
thorough and universal. 

III. They believe that man was and is cre- 
ated upright, but liable to sin ; that trans- 
gression comes not out of any original cor- 



niSTORY AND PROGRESS OF Tilt; DIFl'KUENT DKNOMIXATloNS. 



555 



rupuou of heart, traii.<mitted trom Adam-, 
but out of iizuoianco and unbelief: that all 
meu are foiined, as Adam was, in the moral 
image of Goil ; and that tliis image tiiougli 
it may be disfigured by sin, can never be 
Avholly List. Faith and regeneration remove 
tlie stains and defilements of sin, and renew 
or reform the soul in the divine likeness. 

IV. They believe the new birth to be that 
thorough change of heart which takes place 
when a man, wrought upon by divine grace, 
forsakes his sins, or turns from his former 
life of wickedness and indiiference, toward 
God and the Saviour, and is drawn into fel- 
lowship with the Holy Spirit, and thus cjuick- 
ened into new spiritual vitality, consecrates 
himself into a life of active goodness and 
piety. The new birth is not sn})ernatural, 
but the result of appointed means suitably 
i)nproved. The Holy Spirit blesses the use 
of these means, and moves upon the heart of 
the sinner, encouraging, comforting, assi^^ting, 
sanctifying. They do not believe in instan- 
taneous regeneration, though tliey allow that 
there may be a turning pomt in the life of 
every man when his attention is specially 
direcfcd to religion. Conversion is only the 
commencement of religious effort. 

V. Tiiey ti-ach that salvation is no„ shel- 
ter nor safety, nor escape from present or 
future punishment. It is inward and spirit- 
ual, and not from any outward evil, but de- 
liverance from error, unbelief, sin, the tyr- 
anny of the flesh and its hurtful lusts, into 
the liberty and blessedness of a holy life, and 
supreme love to God and man. This is an 
important doctrinal and })ractical jjoint witli 
TJniver.-alists, and is constantly cnlbrced in 
their preaching and writings. They urge 
on all to seek salvation, not from the tor- 
ments of a future hell, but from the present 
captivity of sin. In rejjly to the objection 
that millions die in sin, in pagan ignorance, 
and uid)ehef, they answer that no one is 
wholly saved in this life, but that all men are 
saved, in a greater or less degree, after death, 
and assert that the power of Christ over the 
soul tloes not cease with the death of the 
body, but that he continues the work of en- 
lightenment and redempiion, till he surrend- 
ers tlie kingdom t(» the Father, which does 
not tak3 j)lace till after the resurrection is 
complete. 

VI. The resurrection is not merely a 
physical, but a moral and sjiiritual change. 
It is not only clothing the soul with an in- 
corru])til)l<', body, but it is an aiiastasis, a 



raising up, an exaltation of the whole bemg 
into the power and glory of the heavenly; 
tbr 'as we have borne the image of tiie earthy 
we shall also bear the image of the heavenly.' 
It is a change, they say, by which we be- 
come as the angels, and are ' children of 
God, being (or because we are) children of 
the resuriection.' It must therefore be 
something more than clothing the soul in a 
spiritual body. It is, beside this, growth in 
spiritual strength and power, in knowledge, 
in holiness, in all the elements and forces of 
the divine life, until we reach a point of per- 
tectness and blessedness described in the 
term heaven. This resurrection or lifting up 
of the soul into the glorified lite of the 
angels, is the work of the Tord Jesus Christ. 
The end of his mediatorial reign, the com- 
l)letion of his saving work, and the final sur- 
render of his kingdom back to God, does not 
take place till after this anastasis, this ujdif;- 
ing of all the dead and living into the 'image 
of tlie heaveidy,' is completed. 

VII. On the subject of rewards and pun- 
ishments, the UniversaFist belief is substanti- 
ally, that holiness, piety, love of God and 
man, are their own I'cward, make their own 
heaven here and hereafter ; and that in the 
nature of things no other reward is possible. 
If men love God with all their heart, and 
trust in him, they find, and are satisfied with, 
the present heaven which love and faith 
bring with them. They hold the same doc- 
trine respecting punishments ; that it is con- 
sequential, and not ai'bitrary — the natural 
fruits of sin ; that it is for restraint, correc- 
tion, and discipline ; and that God loves as 
truly when he punishes as wdien he blesses, 
never inflicting pahi in anger, but oidy be- 
cause he sees that it is needed, as medicine 
is, to prevent a greater evil. They aflirm 
that the law is made for the gootl of man, 
and, of course, that the penalty cannot be 
such as to defeat the object of the law. 
Transgression brings misery, or punishment, 
which is designed to correct and restore to 
obedience, because obedience is happiness. 
They maintain that pain, ordained for its 
own sake, and perpetuaied to all eternity, is 
proof of infinite malignity ; but God, they 
say, is infinitely beneficent, and therefbre all 
suflering must have a beneficent element in 
it, all punishments nuist be temporary, and 
end in,good." 

The Universalists are very generally be- 
lievers in the doetrinc (jf Restoration. They 
do not deny tho punishment of sin beyond 



5.j6 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OP THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



this life, but believe that it will be tempo- 
rary, aud eud in a restoration of the entire 
race to holiness, happiness, and heaven. 

The Universalists are paying much atten- 
tion to their educational institutions. They 
have now five colleges, viz : Tufts College, 
^Rledford, Mass., with 15 professors, and 
property valued at $805,000 ; Lombard Uui 
versity, Galesburg, 111., with 6 professors, 
and property valued at $265,000; St. Law- 
rence University, at Canton, N. Y., with 9 
professors, ami property worth about $40,- 
000 ; Buchtei College, Akron, Ohio, founded 
in 1870, wi^h $50,000 endowment ; and 
Smithson College, Logansport, Ind., also 
founded in 1870. They have two divinity 
schools, both well endowed, one in connec- 
tion with Tufts College, the other with the 
St. Lawrence University. They have, also, 
eight academies, or institutes of high grade, 
most of them Liberally endowed. They have 
13 periodicals. Their statistics, in 187(!, 
were : 83 associations, 9 1 1 societies, 620 
ministers, and a probable membership of 
their societies of from 90,000 to 100,000. 
with an adherent population of over 200,000. 
They have a considerable number of Sunday 
Schools, but do not give the statistics of 
them. Li 1870-71, they raised a centenary 
fund in commemoration of Mr. Murray's 
work in founding Universalist societies, of 
$200,000, to be called the Murray Fund, 
and to be devoted to the aid of theological 
students, the distribution of Universalist lit 
erature, church extension, and the mission- 
ary cause. 

III. The Hicksite or Seceding Soci- 
ety OF Fuie>"ds in America, are Unitari- 
ans, in their view of the divinity of Christ. 
(See VIII, ii.) 

IV. "The C[iristian Connection," at 
the West, have affiliated with the Unitarians 
and a large portion of them are believed to 
hold Unitarian views in regard to the divin- 
ity of Christ. In the Eastern and Middle 
States, they are generally Trinitarians. (See 
II, vil.) 



XI. THE NEW JERUSALEM CHURCH, 
NEW CHURCH, OR SWEDENBORGIAN. 

This denomination refuse to be called a 
sect of the Christian church, claiming to be 
entirely distinct from any branch of the 
Christian church and to belong to a new 
dispensation as fully and as far removed 
from the Christian dispensation as that was 



from the Jewish. They insist, indeed, that 
the Christian dispensation passed away and 
came to an end in 1757, and that tht^y are 
the new dispensation, the New Jerusalem, 
which has come down from God out of heav- 
en to take the place. The first congregation 
of the New Jerusalem Church was formally 
organized in London in 1788, by Robert 
Hiudmarsh, a printer in Clerkenvvell, who 
was chosen by lot, to baptize and ordain his 
comrades in the ministry. Few if any so- 
cieties were organized in the United States 
before 1820, alttiough there were undoubt- 
edly some believers in the New Church doc- 
trines at an earlier date. Their doctrines 
are those put forth by Emanuel Sweden- 
borg, a Swedish nobleman, statesman and 
philosopher (1688-1772), a man of extensive 
attainments in science and of most pure and 
exemplary life, who, after pul)lishing many 
scientific and philosophical works, believed 
that he was favored with visions and reve- 
lations from the spiritual world, and in 1745 
at the age of 57 relinquished all office and 
gave himself to communion with the invisi- 
ble world and to recording his visions and 
the doctrines he had been therein taught, for 
I he benefit of those who should come after 
him. No one believes Swedenborg to have 
been an imposter. Everything in his cir- 
cumstances and character refutes such a sup- 
position ; but there are many who regard 
him as suffering under hallucinations and as 
being of unsound mnid. He lived to be 
nearly 85 years of age, and in the last twen- 
ty-seven years of his life wrote many books, 
all on topics connected with his supposed 
revelation. Some of these books (all writ- 
ten originally in Latin.) contain passages of 
great beauty and interest ; but the greater 
part have a mystical character, and are not 
specially attractive except to those who pro- 
fess to comprehend them by a spiritual in- 
sight. We have not the space for anything 
like a full analysis of the doctrines put forth 
in these numerous volumes. His doctrines 
seem to be based on a theory or science of 
correspondences, whicli he believed himself 
to have rediscovered after it had been lost 
for ages. The law of correspondence is uni- 
versal ; the natural world is a repetition of 
the spiritual world, and the spiritual world 
of the invisible mental world. Unseen evil 
is manifested in things hurtful and ugly, un- 
seen good in things useful and beautiful. 
Man is a microcosm, or little world ; nature 
is man in diffusion ; all things in nature — fire, 



msTOUT a>;d rROr.urss of the diffkukxt dkxomixations. 



657 



air, eiirth, and water, every beast, bird, fish, 
insect, and reptile, every tree, herb, fruit, and 
flower — represent and express unseen things 
in tlie mind of man. The scriptures are 
"written according to correspondences, and 
by aid of the science their mysteries are un- 
locked. This mystical interpretation gives 
us to understand that the early chapters of 
Genesis are not to be received in any his- 
toric sense. Adatn signifies the most ancient 
church, and the flood its dissolution ; Noah 
an ancient church which, falling into idolatry, 
was superseded by the Jewi.-h. The spirit- 
ual s^ense pervades the scriptures with the 
exception of Kuth, I. and II. Chronicles, 
Ezra, Xehemiah, Esther, Job, Proverbs, Ec- 
clesiaste:^, the Song of Solomon, the Acts of 
the Apostles, and the Epistles. These are 
all gooJ books but not possessing the inter- 
nal or Sjiiritnal sense. They are not in- 
spired and consequently not the Word. By 
reason of its symbolism of the inward sense 
the letter of scripture (with the above excep- 
tion) is holy in every jot and tittle, and has 
been preserved in immaculate perfection, 
since the hour of its divine dictation. By 
this doctrine of correspondences also the con- 
stitution of heaven and hell is revealed. 
There are three heavens, consisting of three 
orders of angels, severally distinguished for 
love, wi-dom, and obedience. All angels 
have lived on earth ; none were created such. 
They are men and women in every respect, 
the spiritual life corresponding to the natu- 
ral ; they mirry and live in societies in cities 
and countries just as in the world but in 
happine-s and glory ineffable. To the un- 
married will be given the honor of caring 
for the little ones, and tlieir performance of 
this duty will crown them with glory. All 
in whom love to God and man is the ruling 
principle, go to heaven at death. As there 
aTe three lieavens tliere are three hells, and 
every angelic society has an infernal coun- 
terpart. Hell, as a whole, is called the 
Devil and JSatan ; there is no individual 
bearing that name. All in whom self love is 
the ruling motive go to helL There is no 
resurrection of the earthly body. Every 
one passes to the final lot at death, some 
making a short sojourn in an intermediaie 
state, designated the World of Spirits, where 
the good are cured of their superficial infir- 
mities and intellectual mistakes, and where 
the evil rejt;ct all tiieir pretences to good. 
The grand and distinctive principle of Swe- 
denborgian theology is, however, the doc- 



trine of life. God, it is maintained, alone 
lives. Creation is dead. Man is dead and 
then apparent life is the Divine presence. 
God is everywhere the same. It appears 
as if lie were difierent in one man and in 
another ; but this is a fallacy. The differ- 
ence is in the recipients ; by one 1 le is not 
received in the same degree as another. A 
man more adequately manifests God than a 
tree ; that is tlie only di>tinclion. The life 
of devils is God's })resence perverted in dis- 
orderly forms. "All things and each of 
them to the very uttermost, exert and sub- 
sist instantly from God. If the connection 
of anything with Ilim were broken for a 
moment it would instantly vanish ; for exist- 
ence is perpetual subsistence, and preserva- 
tion perpetual creation." By this law of life 
is explained man's self-consciousness, free- 
dom, and personality. All the^e sensations 
are communicated from (iod to man. He 
dwells in man so cordially, that He gives 
him to feel that he lives of himself, even as 
He lives. 

The Swedenborgian doctrine of the Trinity 
and the Divinity of Christ is thus enunciated 
by his followers, in language deiived from 
his writings : " That Jehovah God, the 
creator, and preserver of heaven and earth is 
love itself, and wisdom itself, or good itself, 
and truth itself ; that He is one botli in essence 
and in person, in whom nevertheless is the 
divine trinity of Father, Son, and Holy 
Spii'it, which are the essential divinity, the 
divine humanity, and the divine proceeding, 
answering to the soul, the body, and the 
operative energy in man ; and that the Lord 
and Saviour Jesus Christ is that (»od. That 
Jehovah, God Himself, descended from 
Heaven as divine truth, which is the word, 
and took upon him human nature, for the 
purpose of removing from man the powers 
of hell, and restoring to order all things in 
the spiritual world, and all things in the 
churcli, that he removed from men the pow- 
ers of hell, by combats again>t and victories 
over them, in which consisted the great woik 
of redemption ; that by the same acts which 
were his temptations, the last of which was 
the passion of the cross, he united in his 
humanity, divine truth to divine good, or 
divine wisdom to divine love, and so re- 
turned into his «livinity in Mliich he was 
from eternity togetlier with and in his glori- 
fied humanity, whence he forever keeps the 
infernal powers in sul)jection to himself, and 
that all who believe iii him with the under- 



558 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



standing from the heart and live accordingly 
will be >aved. Tlie New Cliuich observes 
the ordinances of baptism and the Lord's 
supper, but gives them a mystical signiti- 
cance. The Christian church, as established 
by Jesus himself, came to an end, Sweden- 
borg says, in the middle of the last century, 
and in one of his visions he relates having 
witnessed the la-t judgment effected upon it 
in the world of spirits in 1757. Then com- 
menced the new dispensation, signified by 
the New Jerusalem in the Kevelation of 
wliich he was to be the precui'sor and re- 
vealer. He made no claim to be a leader 
or divinely inspired person, but only a seer. 
He did not himself attempt to establish a 
church, though it was his early expectation 
that such a church would be raised up among 
some of the gentile or heathen nations. But 
his followers have been active propagandists, 
and though they may have believed, as he 
did, that the Christian church was dead and 
at an end, they have to a large extent re- 
mained in its communions, and have propa- 
gated their views among its members, while 
retaining their connection with it. A por- 
tion have, it is true, come out and organized 
separate societies or churches, but the New 
Church has been far more conspicuous for 
intellectual ability, both among its secret ad- 
herents and its avowed membei-s, than for 
memliers. After fifty years of really zeal- 
ous effort, they report only 65 ministers, 78 
societies, and at the utmost not more than 
4,0J0 avowed members, with an adherent 
popidation of perhaps 8,000. They have an 
efficient ])ublishing association, with a capi- 
tal of about §15,000; a tract society which 
publishes 30,000 or 40,000 tracts per year ; 
three periodicals, a weekly, a monthly, and 
a child's paper, a theological school at Wal- 
thaiu, .Mass ; three church schools — one of 
them liber.dly endowed, a missionary society, 
and several Sunday School Unions, It has 
also a "New Church Union" with a free 
library having headquarters in Boston. 



XII. MORMONS, on CHURCH OF JESUS 
CHRLST Ob' LATTER DAY SAINTS. 

T. The Mormons under the control of 
Bri^-ham Young. We have neither time nor 
space to go into the historij of this imposture, 
the most conspicuous one of modern times ; 
nor is it needful ; for the story of the golden 
plates, anrl of Solomon Spalding's manu- 
sc;-l .-, of the successive efforts at organiza- 



tion in Manchester, N. Y.; Kirtland, Ohio ; 
Jackson and Clay counties, Missouri ; Nau- 
voo, Illinois ; the impositions, threats, and ' 
swindles of the Mormon leadeis, their expul- 
sion from Missouri, their death at the hands 
of a mob at Carthage, Illinois, the pilgrim- 
age westward, the wintering in Iowa, the 
final arrival in 1847 and 1848, at Salt Lake, 
the founding of Great Salt Lake City, the 
building of the Tabernacle, the open prac- 
tice and boast of polygamy, their collisions 
with the United States government, their 
Danite band, their murders and outrages, 
and their present condition, have all been 
told so many times as to be familiar to all. 
We will therefore only state their doctrines 
and practices according to their own author- 
ized manuals. They believe that there are 
many gods and that eminent saints may in 
time become gods, and rise one above another 
in power and glory to infinity. Joseph 
Smith is the God of this generation. Above 
him in power and glory is Jesus Christ, who 
was the offspring of the material union on 
the plains of Palestine of a God with the 
Virgin Mary, the latter being duly married 
after betrothal by the angel Gabriel. Y"tt 
Christ had had a previous existence and had 
made the universe out of unformed chaotic 
matter as old as God. The God whom they 
describe as the father of Jesus Christ, liad 
once been a man and still retains a human 
form, though he is so advanced in intelligence 
and power that he may now be called, con.- 
paratively speaking, perfect, infinite, &c. 
The Holy Spirit they believe to be also a 
material being and once human. Above 
these is an older trinity composed of Jcliovfih 
Elohini, and Michael or Adam, the latter 
being described as the god or superior ( f 
Christ, and below, beneath, and associated 
with these are gods many and lords many. 
Their whole Theogony seems to be a most 
unintelligible jumble, mingling I^rahminism, 
lUiddhism, and every other form of belief. 
The second article of their creed affirms that 
men will be punished for their own sins and 
not for Adam's transgressions. The third 
arti'le states that througli the atonement of 
Christ all mankind may be saved by obedi- 
ence to the laws and ordinances of the gos- 
pel. Tiie fourth defines their ordinances to 
be : Faith in the Lord Jesus, which is ex- 
pounded as including obedience to the ten 
conunandments, and to the AVoi'd of Wisd(,m 
revealed to Joseph Smith in 188,']; 2. Ke- 
pentance ; 3. Baptism, which is administered 



HISTORY AXD PROGRESS OF THE DIKFEREXT DENOMINATIONS. 



559 



by immersion, only to children at eight years 
of age, and also to adults who had not been 
previously baptized. Tliey also bai)tize for 
the dead, asserting that at the resurrection 
all the persons for whom a man has been 
baptized will be added to his family ; 4. Im- 
position of hands to confer the gift of tlie 
lloly Spirit ; 5. The Lord's Supper, admin- 
istered to the recipients kneeling; they use 
water instead of wine, being avei'se to the 
use of the latter, and receive tlie sacrament 
every week. The Jifth article declares that 
men must be called to the work of God by 
inspiration. The sixth that the same or- 
ganization must now exist that existed in the 
primitive church. The seventh, that miracu- 
lous gifts — discerning of spirits, prophecy, 
revelations, visions, healing, speaking with 
tongues, &c., — have not ceased. Among 
Smith's and Brigham Young's speculations 
in the way of discerning of s{)irits, one was 
that the soul of man was not created but had 
existed from all eternity, equal in duration 
to God. Anotiier of these revelations was 
that of the transmigration of souls, that re- 
bellious spirits (of men) would descend into 
brute tabernacles, till they yielded to the 
law of the e"erlasting gospel. The eighth 
article affirms that the Word of God is re- 
corded not only in the Bible and the l^ook 
of Mormon, but in all other good books. 
The contradictions which exist in the Bible 
and other books can be very easily removed 
by revelations to any of the Mormon leaders 
or anj' other inspired prophets. Joseph 
Smith, it is said, left an " inspired transla- 
tion " of the whole Bible in manuscript, but 
none of the leaders since have thought it 
worth their while to publish it. The ninth 
article expresses a belief in all that God has 
revealed, is revealing, or will yet reveal. 
The tenth affirms the literal gathering of 
Israel, the restoration of the Ten Triix's 
(whom they believe to be the American 
Indians), the establishment, of the New Zion 
on the Western Continent (they generally 
insist that this will be in Jackson county, 
Missouri), the millenial reign of Christ on 
earth, with all his holy pro[)hets and demi- 
gods (of whom Joseph Smith will be most 
conspicuous), and the transformation of 
earth into a paradise. The eleventh article 
maintains " the literal resurrection of the 
bjdy, — to fli'sh and bone, but not bhx^d — 
blood b'ing the principle of mortality." The 
twelfth article asserts the absolute liberty of 
private j;idg:neut in matters of religion. The 



thirteenth declares it to be the duty of the 
saints and all others to be subject to the pow- 
ers that be, whether monarchical or republi- 
can ; and the fourteenth and last is as follows : 
" We believe in being honest, true, chaste, 
temperate, benevolent, virtuous, and upright ; 
and in doing good to all men ; also that an 
iille or lazy person cannot be a Christian, 
neither have salvation." The leaders, how- 
ever, by virtue of the revelations they receive, 
can, at will, exempt themselves from the ob- 
ligation of any of these rules or obligations, 
and most of them are notoriously profane, 
unchaste, and accessories to the grossest 
frauds and nmrders, if they do not conunit 
them in person. 

Their most remarkable social peculiarity 
is the practice of polygamy. Among the 
early revelations publi.-hed by Smith, one 
was the strict enforceuuint of both monogamy 
and chastity ; but about 1 838 he became no- 
toriously licentious and as alter a time his 
wife began to complain of his amours, he 
h;id in 1843 a special revelation directing the 
pi'actice of polygamy not only in his own case, 
but in that of the other saints. This was 
denied by the leaders for some years, but in 
18o2 they openly avowed polygamy as one 
of their doctrines and referred to this reve- 
lation as their authority. It is now very 
generally practised in Utah ; Young himself 
ha\'ing, it is said, sixty or more wives. For 
many years the ]\Iormon leaders have defied 
the United States government and have 
ruled the territory of Utah according to their 
own views, driving out and often murdering 
United States ollicers and citizens who at- 
tempted to enforce national laws ; but the 
opening of the territory by the pas^age of 
the Union Pachicand other railways through 
it, and the dcivelojmient of the large mining 
interests there, have brought in so large a 
pO[)ulation, who are not Mormons, that there 
is a prospect that the laws may be enforced 
there without serious diilleulty. By the 
laws of the United States, as well as by com- 
mon law, polygamy is a crime, and actions 
have recently been commenced against 
Brigham Young, Daniel C. "Wells, and other 
of the Mormon leaders for adultery, and for 
being accessories to the murder of some 
men whom they had caused to be put out of 
the way. Young has left Salt Lake City, 
and it is generally belie^■e(^, has lied from 
the territory, and some of the others have 
given bail, while one or two have been con- 
victcil of the minor oifense. 



560 



HISTORY AND PROGIIESS OP THK DIFFEUKXT DKNOMINATIONS. 



The JMormons have habitually greatly 
overrated their imnibers. They claimed 
early in 1870 a Mormon population in Utah 
of 150,000, while the United States census 
of 1870 gave the entire population of the 
territory as only 86,786, of whom not less 
than 17,000 are known not to be Mormons, 
aside from a considerable number of seced- 
ers from the authority of Young. Else- 
where in the United States there may be 
(including the seceding Mormons) seven or 
eight thousand ; and in foreign countries 
perhaps 50,000 to 60,000. They claim 100,- 
000 on the eastern continent ; but they 
have no such following. Their hierarchy is 
of two kinds, the Melohizedec and the Aar- 
onic priesthood. To the former belong the 
First Presidency of three, of which Young 
is the chief; the twelve apostles, the seven- 
ti(^3, the patriarchs, the high priests and the 
elders. To the Aaronic priesthood belong 
the bishops, of whom in all there are 240, 
the priests, teachers, and deacons. Tithes are 
rigidly exacted from the Mormon believers 
to be applied to the support of worship, &c., 
b;it no inconsidei-able portion finds its way 
into the capacious purse of Bi'igham Young, 
who by adroit management has become very 
wealthy, his property amounting to many 
millions, and being largely invested abroad. 

There have been for the past twenty-five 
years a body of Mormons who did not go with 
the others to Utah, who did not recognize 
Brigham Young as their chief, nor practice 
polygamy. They have had a colony and set- 
tlement for some years in northwestern Iowa, 
on I lie borders of Dakota, and have had as 
their spiritual chiefs, Emma Smith, the widow 
of Joseph Sniitli, and of late years Joseph 
Smith, Jr. They have about 5,000 ad- 
herents, and the Mormons of Utah are very 
hostile to them. Of late Joseph Smith, Jr. 
has visited Utah, and a considerable number 
of Mormons who were disaff(;cted toward 
Young, have recognized him as their leader. 
Others of the disaffected, who repudiate 
Young's authority and teachings though not 
yet willing to abandon polygamy, have fol- 
lowed a man named Godbe, and are known 
as Godbeites. Both these seceding organi- 
zations are bitterly denounced by Young and 
the Mormon hierarchy. 



XIII. ISRAELITES OR JEWS. 

I. The Orthodox Israfxites, or Jews. 
This is no place for a history of the ancient 



people of God in all their dispersions, wan- 
derings, and persecutions ; we can only give 
very briefly, their history as a religious de- 
nomination in the United States. The first 
Jews who emigrated to North America, it is 
believed, came to the then Dutch colony of 
New Amsterdam, in 1660. Although, from 
the first, they have always enjoyed complete 
religious liberty here, and have often been 
called to positions of high honor in society 
and under our government, yet the number 
of Jewish emigrants to the United States 
was, for a hundred and fifty years from their 
i!rst coming, very small, and in 1820 they 
certainly did not exceed 15,000 in our entire 
territory. Since that time they have come 
in somewhat larger numbers, attracted by 
the opportunities oifered them for succesfixl 
trade and financial operations. After the 
revolutions of 1 848, on the continent of Eu- 
rope, mauy of those, who had participated in 
those uprisings, came here and have since 
been some of our most valued citizens. It 
is difficult to ascertain definitely how many 
are now residents in the United States ; the 
Board of Delegate-; of American Israelites, 
in 1868 reported 200 congregations in the 
country. If these averaged 100 male mem- 
bers (a large estimate), tlie adherent popu- 
lation could not much have exceeded 40,000 ; 
but there are besides these, the Re- 
formed Jews, a considerable number who 
have embraced Christianity, and many who 
in this country do not connect themselves 
with any religious organization. We are 
inclined to beheve that 75,000 is a large es- 
timate of the actual Jewish population of 
the United States, though it has been reck- 
oned as high as 200,000. They have wor- 
ship in their synagogues on the Jewish Sab- 
bath (Saturday), with reading and expound- 
ing of the law, chanting of psalms, etc. The 
reading is usually in Hebrew or Aramaic, 
although many Jews do not understand the 
Hebrew well, but the ex[)lanations and dis- 
courses are m English, or in the vernacular 
of the country from which they have come. 
Many of their ra!)l)is are men of extensive 
learning, and specially versed in Oriental and 
linguistic science. It is, of course, under- 
stood that the iaw does not recognize Christ 
in any religious sense, and is a Deist, rather 
than a Socinian or Unitarian. The follow- 
ing abstract of their doctrinal creed, com- 
piled from the Thirteen Articles of Maimon- 
ides exhibits, briefly, their views on religions 
subjects: "1. They believe that God is the 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



561 



Creator and Governor of all creatures, and 
that he alone has made, does make, and will 
make all things. 2. They believe that He 
is only one, in unity to which there is no 
resemblance, and that he alone has been, is, 
and will be their God. 3. They believe that 
the Creator is not corporeal, not to be com- 
prehended by an understanding capable of 
comprehending only what is corporeal ; and 
that there is nothing like him in the universe. 
4. They believe that He is the First and 
the Last. 5. They believe that He is the 
only object of adoration, and that no other 
being whatever, ought to be worshiped. 6. 
They believe that all the words of the proph- 
ets are true. 7. They believe that all the 
prophecies of Moses, tlieir master, are true, 
and that he was the father of all the wise men, 
as well of those who went before him, as of 
those who succeeded him. 8. They believe 
that the whole law which they have in their 
hand at this day, was delivered by Moses. 
9. They believe that this law will never be 
changed, and that no other law will ever be 
given by the Creator. 10. They believe that 
God knows all the actions of men, and all their 
thoughts ; as it is said : ' He fashioneth all 
the hearts of men, and understandeth all 
their works.' 11. They believe that God 
rewards those who observe his commands, 
"and punishes those who transgress them. 
12. They believe that the Messiah will come, 
and, though he delays, they will always ex- 
pect him till He comes. 13. They believe 
that the dead will be restored to life when it 
shall be ordained by the decree of the Crea- 
tor. 

The Jews have not been very active in 
educational matters, but have several free 
schools of high grade, and, at Philadelphia, 
Maimonides College, founded in 1867, which 
though having a full course, and able in- 
structors, is not well endowed. In matters 
of public charity, the founding of hospitals, 
asylums for orphans, the aged, and the wid- 
ow, and the establishment of public libraries, 
and museums of art, they deserve very high 
praise. These institutions, and their gifts to 
them have not, in any case, been confined to 
their own people, but have been opened 
freely to all, and some of their liberal givers 
have won for themselves undying fame by 
their large handed charity. It is worthy of 
note that they provide always for their own 
poor. They have three or four well con- 
ducted periodicals. 

II. TuE Kekormed ou Puogressive 
3-L* 



Israelites. This organization, which has a 
Rabbinical Conference, which meets annually, 
and has synagogues in the principal cities, 
while not disposed to relinquish tluir Jewish 
birthright and privileges, yet deem some 
changes necessitated, by the progress of the 
world, in their ancient faith. They do not 
look for the coming of a temporal Messiah, 
or a return to Palestine ; they believe in 
having their exercises in the synagogues 
in the vernacular. They hold to tlie immor- 
tality of the soul, but not to the resurrection 
of the body ; to God's grace and justice to 
pardon and bless the being created in his 
image, and not to expiatory rites and sacri- 
fices. We have no means of estimating their 
numbers. 

Efforts have been made, and with consid- 
erable success, by several of the Protestant 
denominations for the conversion of the 
Jews to Christianity. There are several 
congregations of these converted Israelites, 
and a still larger number wdio have connect- 
ed themselves, as individuals, with other 
Christian churches. A considerable number 
of Jews said to be mainly from Germany, 
Poland, and Portugal, have, on coming to 
the United States, abandoned all religious 
worship and faith, and given themselves up 
wholly to the worship of mammon. 



XIV. SPIRITUALISTS. 

"We can hardly call the Spiritualists a 
religious denomination, since its professed 
adherents belong to almost all denomina- 
tions, and many of them to none, and their 
single bond of union is in tlieir belief that 
somehow, and in some way, they hold inter- 
course with the spirits of the dej)arted. That 
this belief is a delusion seems to be demon- 
strated by the most incontestable evidence ; 
yet very many cling to it with the utmost 
tenacity. The Spiritualists, and especially 
the so-called "spiritual mediums," maybe 
divided into several classes. Among these 
are: 1. Charlatans and impostors, who de- 
liberately profess to hold communication with 
the spirit world, knowing that they are guilty 
of a gross and fraudulent deception, but doing 
so for the sake of gain. This class is nu- 
merous ; to it belong most of the fortune- 
tellers and necromancers, the greater part 
(perhaps we should say all) of the healing 
metliums, clairvoyant doctors, and the like, 
the exhibiting mediums, rappers, table-tip- 
pers, &c., &c, 2. The self-deluded, who, 



562 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



possessing a certain amount of magnetic, 
odyllic or reflex-nervous power, really sup- 
pose themselves to be in communication with 
the spirits, when they are only reproducing 
tlieir own thoughts and conjectures or those 
of persons about them and with whom they 
are en rapport. 3. Genuine clairvoyants, 
very few in number, but really endowed 
with a greater or less degree of the clairvoy- 
ant or seer faculty, but mistaken in imputing 
their visions to a different source from that 
fi'am which they really come. The supposed 
conversations held by these persons with an- 
gelic intelligence, or the spirits of the depart- 
ed who were eminent for intellectual or moral 
power in this life, all give evidence, which 
whoso runs may read, that they are "' of the 
earth, earthy." Not one of these messages 
professedly from the spiritworld, however 
exalted in intellect in this life were the per- 
sons from whom they purjiort to have come, 
has ever risen above the dead level of bald 
common place, and could the persons to 
whom they were attributed have come back 
to earth and read them, they would have re- 
pudiated them most indignantly. Much the 
same may be said of the professed revela- 
tions of the spiritual world by these jirofessed 
seers. We have read many of them and 
have found them invariably sensuous in their 
descriptions, and giving ample evidence of 
having been borrowed without being im- 
proved from the Koran, the oriental fables, 
or the word painting of Moore, Byron, 
Southey, Beckford, or Johnson, and some- 
times, perhaps, from the hallucinations of 
Emanuel Swedenborg. Too much of the 
flesh clings to the seer to make these visions 
in any respect representative of that glorious 
spiritual state which the natural eye hath 
not seen, nor can see ; of those experiences, 
which are only discerned by the spiritual 
man when unrobed from the garments of 
flesh, and made pure even as God is pure. 

Still this great delusion has its thousands 
of votaries. Beginning in this country about 
1843 with some manifestations of power as 
a healing medium on the part of a lad of 
seventeen, named Andrew Jackson Davis, 
at Poughkoepsie ; they were gradually de- 
velopeil into a high degree of cl^xirvoyance 
on his part, which resulted in his dictating 
from 1846 to the present time numerous 
l)Ooks professing to give revelations of the 
conditic^n of the various spheres which he al- 
leged envelope our earth, and communica- 
tious with the spirits wljich inhabited them ; 



descriptions of the climate, scenery and peo- 
ple of the various planetary bod es of the 
solar system, and eventually a ciicological 
system, with its pantheon of heroes and demi- 
gods which he professed to have received 
from the highest spiritual intelligences. That 
some portions of this system were rather the 
results of earthly study, than of hea\ enly in- 
spiration, was evident to those who knew 
Mr. Davis's habits of study and preparation 
for his books. These numerous volumes 
have, however, had a very considerable sale, 
and though it would be difficult to say how 
many Spiritualists believed them either 
wholly or in part, yet they have un(|uestion- 
ably exerted considerable influence in form- 
ing the Spiritualist theology. Many Spirit- 
ualists repudiate them, wholly ; others go far 
beyond them, to a gross and blas|)hemous infi- 
delity. While Mr. Davis was beginning to 
dictate his revelations, another develo[)mentof 
the Spiritualist mania appeared in Kochester, 
where a Mrs. Fox and her two young daugh- 
ter's first made spirit-rapping profitable. 
This and table-tipping and table dancing 
soon became popular and lucrative exercises, 
and presently it was found that the spirits 
could spell (not always correctly) by the aid 
of an al|)habet card. As time passed, their 
education improved till by the hand of a 
medium (their unconscious instrument, it 
was said) they wrote all manner of plati- 
tudes in prose and rhyme, though quite as 
often without sense as with it. Still later, 
they practised a species of plionographic 
writing which expedited matters for them, 
though not always for the unliupj^y mediums, 
who ibund great difficulty in putting it into 
readable Engli>h. Gymnastic and leger- 
demain feats followed, and though most of 
these were exposed, yet they made tlieir im- 
pression on the minds of the gaping multi- 
tude. An adventurer named D. D. Home 
or Hume was the most adroit performer of 
these alleged Spiritualistic feats in Europe, 
and succeeded in deceiving many eminent 
tJiough unphilosophic minds. The delusion 
reached its culminating point in 1858 or 
1859, and has since that time been gradually 
waning. Both the Shakers and the followers 
of Swedenborg had at one time great expec- 
tations from it, of large increase to their 
numbers; but both have been greatly di.-ap- 
poiuted. Very many who v\ere once de- 
luded hy it have long since abandom d it and 
now wonder that they could have been so 
grievously deceived ; others not fairly ^ow 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THIC DIFFERKNT DENOMINATIONS. 



563 



viuced of the delusion still entertain dtmbts, 
and will eventually shake it off; while of 
those who hold firmly to it still, some have 
becom;; insane, some profess to derive com- 
fort from their communication in hours of 
sorrow with the dear departed, and others 
have pluns^ed into the abyss of infidelity or 
are on the high road thitiier. 

The Spiritualists in 1858 and 1859 made 
the m.^st extravagant statements in regard 
to their numbers ; statements which must at 
tliat time hav^e been conspicuously inexact, 
and are now too absurd for any one to be- 
lieve. In tlie " Spiritual Register" for 1859 
it is stated tliat the number of actual Spirit- 
ualists in America is 1,500,000; of those 
wlio have more or less faith in the doctrine, 
but do not openly espouse it, 4,000,000 ; pub- 
lic advocates, 1,000 ; mediums, public and 
private, 40,000; places for public meetings, 
1,000 ; boo'vs and pamphlets, 600 ; periodi- 
c:ds, 30. If most of these figures had been 
divided by ten the quotients would have been 
nearer the truth at that time. At present, 
the numbrir of periodicals (of which only 
two or three have a large circulation) is ten, 
tlie number of public advocates of Spiritual- 
ism not over 50, and the meetings mentioned 
about the same or possibly 75. The number 
of mediums of all sorts, we could not under- 
take to estimate ; there must be several 
thousands ; though some have unfortunately 
been sent to State Prison recently, and 
some oth'^rs, who have been nsing their art, 
to aid them in their nefarious business as 
procuresses ought to be. It would be diffi- 
cult to find 150,000 persons who would avow 
themselv<'S, to-day. Spiritualists ; and equally 
ditll-ult to find 200,000 more who would 
acknowledge any leanings in that direction. 
The number of books and pamphlets pub- 
lished pro and con may reach 500, indeed, 
coasiilei-ing the great number issued })y Mr. 
A. J. Davis and Mr. S. P.. Brittan, we think 
they probably will ; but tlie sale of Mr. 
Davis's books, the most popular of all this 
class of literature, has not averaged over 
20,000 copies of each. 



XV. jfRKE TIITXKERS, OR ATHEISTS, 
DEISTS, RATIONALISTS, &c. 

TriE various forms of unbelief cannot 
fairly be called religious since they are rather 
the negative of all religion ; nor can they 
be rla~sifi(!d or numbered, since they are 
found under so many different names and 



forms and commingled with so many oiher 
doctrines and notions ; yet it is true that 
they include many thousands mostly from 
three classes: 1. Speculative philosophers, 
whose h-arning is rather superficial than 
profound, and who from the desire to tlirow 
off control, which is natural to the de[)raved 
heart, seek to find arguments against the 
authenticity and inspiration of the seriptures, 
iigainst a ruling and controlling I'rovi(h'nce, 
and against any plan of salvation v.hidi 
admits the depravity of Innnan nature. They 
draw th'-ir arguments from any and everv 
source which they deem available ; at one 
time they deride miracles as inconsistent 
with reason ; at another they parade geolo- 
gical discoveries as proving the falsity of the 
Sacred Record ; then they are very sure 
that they have discovered that man has lived 
upon the earth 800,000 or a million of yen s, 
and that he was developed from a monad or 
a monkey ; if driven from these positions, 
they find fault with the numbers of the Bible, 
its genealogical records, its narratives of 
events ; the slightest apparent discrepancy 
is magnified, and they either con(;lu(le the 
sacred book a tissue of fables, a book of rid- 
dles, metaphors, and conundrums, or a series 
of myths. Rout them from one class of ar- 
guments, and they fly to another, often in 
exact contradiction of what they had previ- 
ously maintained ; and in del'ault of any 
ground of argument they will fall to abusing 
and cursing the life, ministry, and work of 
the Divine Redeemer, using the coarsest ri- 
baldry,though previously given to only dainty 
phrases ; thus demonstrating that it is the 
enmity of the heart against God which is at 
the bottom of all their unbelief. 2. A larger 
class than the preceding is composed of 
working men, mechanics, who in a crude and 
rough w'ay do a good deal of thinking, but 
being soured by the neglect of tlieir intel- 
lectual tastes and abilities, which they believe 
the educated class niMnifest, and having tlie 
idea that they are displaying a great deal of 
intellectual independence by avowing them- 
selves free thinkers, phui'jre boldly into the 
discussion of questions which they are dis- 
qualilied, for tiie want of both early training 
and positive knowledge, from handling. 
Without being conscious of it th(>y are mere- 
ly the echoes and mouth pieces of abler but 
worse men, uttering the falsehood, which 
their leaders know to be ?u(li, but wdiieh 
these poor men believe merely on tle'ir as- 
sertion. With them, too, the desire that 



564 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



these views may be true, that they may be 
thereby freed from responsibihty and the 
goadings of conscience, has much to do with 
their earnestness in endeavoring to believe 
them. 3. Another and still larger class of 
unbelievers, we can hardly call them free 
thinkers, for they do very little thinking of 
any sort, are the men and women utterly 
brutalized by a vicious life, who are without 
hope and without God in the world, and 
who stolidly conclude that no other life, if 
tliere is another, can be worse than the 
present ; and that somehow they will be 
better off after death, since, as they express 
it, they have had no show or chance here. 
These need almost a new creation to bring 
them up to the plane of morally accounta- 
ble beings. They constitute the dangerous 
classes of our large cities, the material of 
mobs, the gangs of thieves, dead rabbits, 
shoulder hitters, prize fighters, burglars, and 
if women, the shop lifters, prostitutes, and 
degraded women of the slums and back 
alleys of the gi-eat cities. We might name 
as recruits in this army of unbelief, those 
who under the influence of the worst phases 
of spiritualism have lost all faith in humanity, 
and those in higher circles of society who 
departing from their early training in sound 
doctrine have wandered and floundered 
through the mazes of German rationalism, 
transcendentalism, and at last merged in 
Pantheism or utter unbelief. 

A very considerable portion of the edu- 
cated German emigrttnts, and the English 
workingmen who migrate to this country 
are Freethinkers or infidels, and in many of 
our large cities as well as in the newer 
towns and settlements at the West they have 
organized Infidel or Liberal clubs, and seek 
to bring others into their way of thinking. 
They have united and brought out their full 
strength on several occasions in the effort to 
have all vSabbath laws abrogated in several 
of the Western cities. Jn some of the new 
settlements of the West they have been so 
largely in the majority that they have pro- 
hibited all effort for religious worship or 
Sabbath observance. Their periodicals 
vary in character according to the class 
whom they address. Some are decorous in 
tone but aim at subverting Christianity by 
appeals to reason and philosophy ; others 
are ribald and blasphemous, and denounce 
incessantly all Christian organizations, and 
Christian men. Those conducted by foreign- 
ers and in German or French, are generally 



revolutionary in their character, and have 
much to say of priestcraft and restrictions 
upon the rights of the people. There are 
in all fifteen or twenty of these papers, but 
they give no indications of the number of 
the Freethinking class, since many of them 
do not read anything. There are no means 
of estimating with any approximation to ac- 
curacy their actual numbers. Men who 
have made religious statistics a study, and 
with equal opportunities of observations 
differ as w^idely as between 250,000 and 
1 ,000,000 ; and the larger number is quite as 
likely to be correct as the smaller. 

There are a number of small and minor 
sects which did not properly come under the 
classification we have adopted. With a 
brief notice of them we close this sketch 
of Religious Denominations in the 
TjNiTed States. 

I. Adventists, a recent sect of Millina- 
rians, owing its origin to William Miller of 
Vermont, from whom they are often called 
Millerites. He commenced his public teach- 
ings in 1833 and predicted the second ad- 
vent of Christ in 1843. Among his 
disciples was one Joshua V. Himes who had 
been a Campbellite preacher and who sur- 
passed Miller in earnestness and energy. 
After the failure of their first prediction in 
1843, others were made but the adherents 
of the sect fell off. Himes however con- 
tinued to advocate his doctrine in the 
Advent Herald and from the pulpit, and suc- 
ceded in drawing around him a considera- 
ble number of followers, of whom, since 
Miller's death, he has been the leader and 
apostle. He is said to be inclined to 
Unitarian views in regard to the divinity of 
Christ, and with most of his followers to 
hold that the wicked will be annihilated at 
the second coming of Christ. There are no 
definite statistics of the numbers of the Ad- 
ventists, but they are estimated at about 
20,000. Their other views are generally 
those of the Evangelical churches, though 
inclining somewhat to Methodism ; but they 
have no regular creed or form of discipline. 
II. Annihilationists. The doctrine of 
the Annihilation of the Wicked is not con- 
fined to Adventists. Nearly forty years 
ago it was defended by Rev. Henry Grew, 
and since that time Dr. McCulloh of Baltic 
more, George Storrs (an Adventist) and 
Rev. C. F. Hudson have published works 
advocating the doctrine. They have not a 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



5G.J 



large following aside from the Adventists, 
and most of those who believe in the 
doctrine remain members of Evangelical 
churches. 

III. Catholic Apostolic Church or 
3i{ViN(;iTKs, a small denoniination which 
originatotl with the teachings of Kev. Ed- 
ward Irving in London about 1830, but 
afterwards considerably modilicd through 
the intiuence of Mr. Henry Drumniond, a 
member of Mr. Irving's congregation. They 
hold to the present existence in the Chris- 
tian Church of the Charisms or gifts men- 
tioned l)y Paul in Cor. xii. 27-31, Eph. iv. 
1 1-13, 1 Thess. v. 19, 20, viz. healing, speak- 
ing with tongue-, prophesying, &c. In 
their other doctrines they agree generally 
with the Evangelical churches though they 
make confirmation or sealing by the laying 
on of hands of the apostles a third sacrament 
or ordinance. In organization and polity, 
however, they differ from most of the 
churches in having four orders of the min- 
istry, apostle-, prophets, evangelists, and 
angels or chief pastors, and under the latter, 
a fourfold service of elders and deacons, to- 
gether with under deacons and deaconesses. 
The deacons, under deacons, and deacon- 
esses are ordained by the angel or chief pas- 
tor, all the superior ministers or servants by 
the apostles who are not themselves ordained 
but called of the Holy Spirit to their work. 
In their worship they use incense-lights on 
the altar, the full catalogue of priestly vest- 
ments, and a very imposing and impressive 
ritual. They celebrate the Eucharist, every 
Lord's day, as well as on other occasions, 
and receive tithes during the service. They 
also have auricular confession of sin with 
al)solutions and prayers in fourfold form. 
At their meetings for extemporaneous pray- 
er and confession they encourage the speak- 
ing with tongues and prophesying. The 
number of congregations of the Catholic 
Apostolic Cliurch in the United States is 
small, not more than eight or ten in all. 

IV. Bretiiukn or Plymoith Uuktii- 
REN, a denomination which originated about 
1^30 under the leader-hip of Rev. John 
Darby, an English barrister of high social 
position, who became a clergyman of the 
Church of England and devoted himself to 

^ missionary labors in Ireland for several 
years, but being consc-ientiously opposed to 
tlie doctrine of Apostolical Succession he 
left that church and proceeded to found one 
which recognized no distinctive ministry 



and no formal organization. Mr. Darby 
was a Milleuarian and thought it tlie duty 
of all true Christians to gather in sniafl 
bands and pray, labor, and wait for the 
speedy sc(H)iid coming of Christ. The Piv- 
niouth Brethren recognize no other title 
except that of Brethren or Christians ; they 
are Calvinistic (thoroughly so) in doctrinal 
belief; but belit've that all the Lord's chil- 
dren are priests and kings in his service and 
that any one of them who feels that he is 
called to the work has a right to preach or 
to administer ordinances. They permit no 
licensure or ordination, and all preaching 
is voluntary and without salary or compen- 
sation. Tliey baj)tize adults on a ])r()fession 
of faith (usually immersing them) though 
they do not consider this indispensable to 
membershij). They do not allow infant 
baptism. They exclude persons from })ar- 
ticipating in the Lord's Supper, who have 
been guilty of gross sins. 'J he Lord's Sup- 
per is celelirated every Sabbath morning. 
In the afternoon or evening of the Lonl's 
day they preach to and pray for such as are 
not converted. They believe in the etli(>acy 
ofprayer for special blessings temporal as 
well as siiiritual, and one of the lirethren, 
George Midler has maintained an extensive 
Orphan Asylum and large missionary enter* 
prises at Bristol for many years, solely by 
praying for the needed funds, which as they 
came in were most judiciously expended. 
The denomination has had a rapid growth 
in England and on the continent, and num- 
bers many eminent men among its adher- 
ents. In this country they have a consider- 
able number of congregations, but are very 
reticent concerning their increase and 
growth. 

V. Sandemanians or CJlassites. This 
denomination, which a hundred years ago 
was quite numerous is now nearly extinct. 
It derives its nanu3 from Kev. Robert San- 
deman, who was not, however, its real found- 
er, his tather-in-law, Pev. John (ilass of 
Dundee, having originated the sect. Mr. 
Sandeman, after ])reaching their doctrines for 
twenty years or more in Scotland, emi- 
grated to the United States in 17G4, and 
settled at Danbury, Connecticut, where he 
died in 1771, having established several 
Sandemanian churches hi Connecticut and 
INIassachusetts. Tlieir distinguishing doc- 
trines are: That faith is a simple intellect- 
ual assent to the teachings and divinity of 
Christ; that all mystical or double inter- 



5G6 



HISTORY AND PROGRESS OF THE DIFFERENT DENOMINATIONS. 



pretation of the scriptures is to be rejected ; 
that none of their members must take part 
in any games of chance ; that they are to 
abstain strictly from all blood and "things 
strangled ;" that all collegiate training for 
the ministry is wrong ; that no prayers 
should be made at funerals ; that weekly 
love feasts in which all the members of the 
Church should dine together should be ob- 
served every Sabbath day ; and the kiss of 
brotherhood should pass between all their 
members, male and female, at their solemn 
meetings ; and that a plurality of elders is 
necessary in the church, two at least being 
required for all acts of discipline and the 
administration of ordinances and ritual. 
The ordinance of feet-washing originally 
practised by the sect has been discontinued. 
There are not more than two or three con- 
gregations of Sandemaniaus now existing 
in the United States. 

VI. Church of the Messiah, a sect 
founded in Maine in 1 8G3 by a person named 
Adams, who had previously been a IMormon 
elder. He claimed to have visions and spe- 
cial inspirations. Among the points of the 
new faith was, that its members were of the 
tribe of Ephraim and that the time had 
come for them to return to the land of their 
fathers, where the Messiah was to set up the 
throne of David. In ISl)!'), 1 'if) of the mem- 
bers of the sect sailed tVom Maine for Pal- 
estine under the leadership of Adams and 
landed at Jaffa, where through the efforts of 
the American Vice-' onsul, land had been 
procured for them and where they erected 
houses and a hotel. Dissatisfaction soon 
occurred. Adams was accused of misman- 
agement, and through the kind offices of 
the United States government a considera- 
ble number returned in 1)S67, and the re- 
mainder in 1«G8. The sect is probably 
extinct. 

VII. Perfectionists. I. Free Lov- 
ers, Bible Communists or Perfection- 
ists, a small American sect founded about 
18 10 by John H Noyes. in Putney, Ver- 
mont, but removed SMl)sequently to Oneida, 
New York, where it is now known as the 
Oneidti Community. Branches of it are 
also established under the same regulations 
at Wallingford and Brooklyn, Connecticut. 
This organization is a singular medley of 
laiblical doctrine and unholy practice. They 
profess to believe that a reconciliation to 
God is necessary for salvation, that this is 
accomplished through faith which is simply 



an intellectual belief, and that confessing 
this belief the man's sins are immediately 
washed away, and thenceforth he is above 
and beyond all law, being a law unto himself; 
though in practice he surrenders a portion of 
tliis liberty to the family or Community in 
which he lives. They hold to a community of 
goods, community of women, or as they term 
it, a complex marriage ; no legal marriage 
being considered binding and the parties to 
it in the community being at liberty to make 
new selections at will, their liberty, however, 
being somewhat abridged by the necessity 
of making their proposals through a third 
party and their being subject to the approv- 
al of the family and in accordance with 
what 'they pronounce physiological laws. 
The Community or Communities now num- 
ber in all about 600 members, that at 
Oneida having 300. They have prospered 
financially, having attained large wealth by 
their manufactures and agricultural produc- 
tions. They are said to be harmonious and 
contented. The men dress like the citizens 
of the adjacent towns, but the women have 
adopted a sort of Bloomer costume and 
wear their hair short. The influence of 
these Communities can only be evil on the 
society around them. There are several 
other communities in various parts of the 
United States, practising a community of 
,oods but not of wives. We have already 
described the Shaker Communities, which 
have all prospered ; but there are others 
which do not find a new theology neces- 
sary to their success, such as the German 
Socialist Village of Economy, Pennsylvania, 
the Seventh Day German Baptist Commu- 
nity at P^phrata, Pennsylvania ; the more 
recently organized one, near Brocton in 
Western New York, which from the past 
history of Rev. T. L. Harris, one of its 
founders, we suppose to be Spiritualistic, 
and one in Iowa, which admits only male 
members. 

II. Another and more numerous sect of 
Perfectionists, though, perhaps, we should 
hardly call them a sect since they have very 
generally retained their connection with the 
denominations to which they had previously 
belonged, are those persons, who in con- 
nection with IMethodist, Congregationalist, 
Baptist, and Adventist Churches, hold to 
the doctrine that it is not only possible 
to attain, but that they have actually 
attained to a condition of sinless perfection, 
complete tVeedom not only from sinful acts 




a 



W fi 



^1 

z-q 
^ — 1 



S 



CHURCH AKCniTKCTUUE, PAST AND rRKSEXT. 



5G7 



and deeds but from all sinful thoughts or 
■vvords and from any promptings to sin. This 
doctrine, soinetinios called the doctrine of 
Perfect Holiness, sonu'times Oberlinisin. 
since it was strongly advocated at Oberlin, 
Ohio, has a considerable following ; and 
under the names of "The Higher Christian 
Life," or " Complete Sanctilication," has 
been largely preached and written about 
within a few years past. We cannot say 
that in our experience, those who professed 
it have generally given evidence of greater 
purity or real holiness than others who 
made no such exalted profession ; but while 
conformity to the Divine model is a thing to 
be sought after and labored for, we do not 
believe it is often attained in this life. 

With our notice of these believers in Per- 
fection we close our sketch of Religious De- 
nominations in America. We may have 
omitted some small sects, but if so, it has not 
been for want of careful search for them. 
We have not deemed it necessary to say 
anything of Mohammedans, Buddhists, or 



Sintauists, though we believe then; are two 
or three congregations of each in California, 
and perhaps one or two in New York. The 
Ivusso-tireek Church has a chapel in New 
York City, one in San Francisco, and one 
or two in Alaska, but its adherents are 
probal)ly less than oOO in all. The religious 
rites and ceremonies of the Indian tribes of 
the West, vary too much to l)e described 
within our limits. The Pueblo Indians of 
New Mexico, and the small remains of the 
Toltec tribes still found in New Mexico and 
Arizona, yet maintain some forms of that 
Sun and Fire Worship which so dearly 
fixes their origin in the plains of Mesopo- 
tamia. In some sections of the South, the 
Negroes, and especially those who were na- 
tives of Western Africa, still maintain in 
secret the Fetich or ()-be-ah Worship. In 
considering the nearly one hundred and tiftv 
denominations here enumerated with their 
widely varying creeds, we find it as true 
now as in olden times, that " (iod ma<le man 
upright, but he sought out many inventions." 



CHURCH ARCHITECTURE, PAST AXD PRESENT, IN THE UNITED STATES. 



In connection with the preceding history 
of religious denominations in the United 
States, it seems appropriate that we should 
touch briefly on the edifices devoted to reli- 
gious worship. During the Colonial period, 
and indeed till about 1820, the church edi- 
fices making any pretension to architectu- 
ral beauty, were very few. One or two in 
Boston, two or three in New York, per- 
haps two in Philadel})hia, one or two 
beside the Roman Catholic cathedral in 
Baltimore, one in Charleston, and one in 
Providence were so far beyond the ordinary 
churches in style and ornamentation that 
they were regarded as marvels. In the 
country, especially in the newer settlements, 
the church edifices, like the rude dwellings, 
was of logs, and the seats of hewed slabs, 
thrust btitween the logs at one end and sus- 
tained at the other by a block or some rough 
wooden legs. The pulpit was a section of 
the butt of a tree dug out and sometimes 
had a hewn slab pinned on it with wooden 
pins. The floor was oftenest of hard beaten 



I earth, but sometimes of split planks ; the 
j roof of bark or thatch and in rare cises of 
half-hewn logs with clay cement for the 
chinks. Glass in the windows was a rarity; 
oftener they were mere wooden shutters, ad- 
mitting the light when thrown open but ad- 
mitting, in their season, the wintry breezes 
also. There were no means of warming the 
house of God even when it was of better 
architecture than this, for two reasons: one 
that at this period stoves and furnaces 
were not in existence on this side of the 
Atlantic ; the other that it was incom- 
patible with the ideas of the fathers, that 
people should be allowed to take comfort 
in the house of God, except in the 
preaching of the Word. Was not the 
promise made on this very condition "If 
thou refrain thy foot from the Saltl)atli, fnun 
doing thine own j)leasure on my holy day," 
&c., and <lid not that evidently mean that 
people should not go to a good comfortable 
church, ni<(ly wanned and ventilate<l lest it 
should be a "doing of their own pleasure? 




Ancient Dutch Church in Albany. 




Ancient Swedes^ Church, Philadelphia. 
It is impossible to give anything like a general variety in modern styles of church 
edifices in our illustrations, they are so numerous ; but the specimens of the old and new 
we here introduce, will give a good general idea of the improvements which have been 
made. 




SOUTH CHUKCH, Mivv BiUTAiN, coxx. {CuugreyationaL) 




Sy-iiJ 



PLAN. 



570 



CHURCH ARCHITECTURE, PAST AND PRESENT. 



They might get asleej) if they were so com- 
fortable. Ill the okler settlements, the log 
cabin churches and school houses had given 
place to huge barn-like structures, lofty and 
bare and cold, with great square pews as 
large as the bed chambers of a modern 
dwelling, with high partitions, where each 
fanaily sat by itself like the witnesses in a 
court, the jury in the jury-box, or, in many 
cases, like the criminal in his pen, when the 
judge is about to pronounce sentence on him. 
The mother or grandmother, in respect for 
their age and dignity, were allowed to bring 
their fbotstoves, little square boxes of perfo- 
rated tin, having a little iron dish of live 
coals within them, and with these, while in- 
haling the charcoal flimes, they were fain 
to keep their feet from freezing in the win- 
ter ; but the father, and the sons, and the 
little children were allowed no such foolish 
indulgence. After tramping through the 
snow perhaps for miles, they took their 
seats in their pews with the temperature 
anywhere from 32° to zero, and listened as 
well as they could, while the preacher read 
his discourse, going on often to seventeenthly 
or eighteenthly, while the children either 
played with the house dog, who was a regu- 
lar attendant upon the church and had his 
place in the pew, or amused themselves with 
some of the few objects in which they could 
find occupation for their mental and physical 
activity. The number of panes of glass in 
the great windows were counted over and 
over again ; the calculation was made 
with an elaboration of the doctrine of chan- 
ces, worthy of a Babbage or De Morgan, 
how many weeks, months, or years would 
elapse before the huge sounding board over 
the pulpit would fall, and whether it would 
come down on the minister's head like an 
extinguisher on a candle, and whether the 
little tub perched on a post in which he 
preached would be crushed in the downfall. 
Occasionally a child of uncommonly quick 
perception would find some gratification, as 
the minister announced his " fifteenthly " 
and " sixteenttdy " in computing how much 
time he would be likely to consume in the 
heads yet to come ; but such an idea as a 
child's being able to understand what the 
minister was preaching about, never entered 
the heads of parent or minister. How should 
it? The sermons were mostly doctrinal, 
masterly expositions and logical arguments 
on the great points of the Calvinistic theolo- 
gy, but it required the matured minds of 



the sturdy t'liinkers of those days to com- 
prehend their force and pertinence. The 
sermons of that time were long ; not merely 
an hour, but often two and three hours in 
duration. We read of one of the worthies 
of that time, a shining light in the Massa- 
chusetts ministry, that " he was a most god- 
ly and pahiful preacher " (don't laugh, read- 
er, painful in those days meant painstaking) ; 
and that on one occasion he preached to his 
people a good three hours, in the morning 
of a very wintry day ; and after tliey had 
taken food, he belabored them for their sins 
and shortcomings, in the afternoon, by the 
space of four hours more." In the cities, 
the churches were mostly frame buildings, 
though a few brick and stone were put up. 
One or two of the Dutch churches in New 
York were built of small red and black 
brick imported from Amsterdam, but very 
few had any architectural beauty. The Old 
Brick Church in New York, (Eev. Dr. 
Spring's) on Park Row, was in its day con- 
sidered one of the finest churches in the 
city ; if standing now it would hardly be 
considered a respectable stable (the use to 
which abandoned churches are generally 
put in that city). Indeed as late as 183(', 
forty-two years ago, there were not in the 
whole country twenty churches which could 
be considered specimens of graceful archi- 
tecture. The great fire of 1835, which de- 
stroyed the second church edifice which the 
corporation of Trinity church had erected, 
as well as several other churches in that 
part of the city, was incidentally the impulse 
to great improvements in church architec- 
ture. The present Trinity church, " a poem 
in stone," was erected on the ruins of its 
predecessor, and Grace church soon after. 
From that time New York began to be 
noted for the beauty of its church edi- 
fices, many of them erected at enormous 
cost. Other cities followed the example ; 
some, indeed, had already commenced the 
erection of beautiful churches. The Gothic 
styles. Early, Norman, Spanish, Mediaeval, 
and English, were the favorites for many 
years, and even now have their advocates. 
Of late years, however, there has been a 
greater independence of the forms of Ancient 
and Mediaeval art on the part of our archi- 
tects, and while the styles of the Renais- 
sance, and the ancient classical, are found 
more frequently than formerly, there is a de- 
sire which now and then finds expression in 
stone, iron, or bricks and mortar, to origin- 



CHURCH ARCIIITECTUKE, PAST AND PRESENT. 



571 



ate designs more appropriate to our own time, 
our climate and the new materials for build- 
ing which we have. .Sometimes tliis leads 
to very singular structures, experiments, it 
would seem upon public taste and endurance. 
Under the name of Italian Renaissance we 
have particolored buildings of red and cream- 
colored stone, or black and white marbles, 
with a profusion of si)ires, turrets, and Hnials, 
and crowned with a massive dome ; in one 
of the so-called American styles we have 
bi'oad, squat iron buildings, low, but crowned 
in the center with a high, towering dome, 
reminding one of a huge foundry. Another 
American style studiously })lain, and un- 
doubtedly ca})acious and comfortable for 
accommodating an audience, seems intended 
for two towers, whereof one is cut short at 
the height of the ridge-pole of the church, 
and the other forgetting its original intent 
presently shoots up into a lofty spire (usual- 
ly of wood, but covered with slate) so slen- 
der and fragile, that it seems most like a 
monster darning-needle, set up on end. But 
these partial failures only serve as way marks 
to a more perfect architecture which shall in 
the end attract the attention of the world by 
its grace and adaptation to the purposes for 
which it is intended. City churches are not 
as yet all models of beauty, but they are 
improving in these respects very rapidly. In 
their interior arrangement there has been a 
great advance. Tlie old-fashioned pew has 
been banislied and the modern slip or cush- 
ioned seat, low, easy, readily accessible and 
attractive has taken its place. The pulpit 



is not now a perch or eyrie from which the 
preacher can got a bird's eye view of his 
congregation, but a simple reader's desk on 
a raised i)latform. Pillars are either entirely 
dispensed witli or are so small as not to in- 
terfere with the view of the pulpit. Warm- 
ing and ventilation have been tlie subject of 
anxious and protracted thought, an.l tliough 
we can hardly say as yet that either is per- 
fect, yet we are so rapidly approximating to 
perfection in these particidais, that iIk; pres- 
ent generation will probal)ly ])e able to 
realize it. The Sunday ScIk'joI and Bible 
Classes have come to be such important 
agencies in religious progress, that special 
accommodations are recpiired and provided 
for them, usually in a sejiarate building, but 
attached to the church. And so strong are 
the demands for social life in connection 
with the church, that most of the newer 
church editices have their parlors, retiring 
rooms, ante-rooms, committee rooms, and 
many of them pastor's studies and church 
libraries in connection with the church edi- 
tices. 

The churches in the country come up 
slowly to these improvements, and those of 
the Soutliern and Western States more 
slowly than those of the Eastern or IMiddle 
States ; but the progress in all is encourag- 
ing. Still great as has been the advance of 
the last forty years, we are, as a nation, far 
behind most foreign nations in the number, 
the splendor, or the costliness of our temples 
for religious worship. 



INDEX 



Accident insnrance companies, 227. 

"Academician,'" the first educational p«riodlDaI, 393. 

Academies and high schools, 388. 

"Academy," an, in Virginia, 377. 

Adams, Hannah, works of, 285. 

Adams, Mr., designer and wood engraver, 332. 

Adams, John, extract from, upon education, 352. 

Adams, John Quincy, worlcs and career ol^ 276; extract 

from, upon education, 353. 
Adams press, the, 297 ; illustration ot, 295. 
Adirondac iron mines, 25. 
Adventure copper mine, the, 54. 
Adverti.sing, newspaper, 304. 
.(Etna Insurance Company, 222. 
Agricultural machines, use of, at the West, 175. 
Agriculture, schools of, 402. 
Alabama, iron mines and furnaces of, 28: banks and bankin? 

in, 203. 
Albany, iron foundries of, 36. 
Albion coal mines, Nova Scotia, 129. 
Alcuin, Bible copied by, in 22 years, 264, 272. 
Alfred, King, price for a book paid by, 262. 
Alison, Kev. Francis, 349. 
Alleghany mountain, iron ores of the, 28. 
Allston, Washington, career of, as a painter and author, 321. 
Almaden quicksilver mines, Spain, 111. 
Alphabets for the blind, 440. 
Aluminum, discovery and uses of, 251. 

Amalgamation for extraction of gold, 74 ; Eaton's improve- 
ment in, 76. 
Amalgams, uses of, 114, 115. 

Americ.1, discovery of, 229 ; co1oniz.ition of, 229, 234. 
American Academy of Fine Arts, 320, 335. 
American Academy of Natural Sciences, museum and library 

of the, 427. 
"American Ann.al8 of Education," 398. 
American Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb, 435, 436 : view of, 

437. 
American Bible Society, formation and issues of the, 264. 
American Bible Union, organization and publications of the, 

264. 
American Institute of Instruction, 397. 
" American Journal of Education," 398, .399. 
American Female Guardian Society, 449. 
Am.^rican Philosophical Society, origin of the, 349. 
American Telegraph Company, 313. 
Ames, Messrs., foundry of, 63. 
Ancram lead mine. New York, 82. 
Ansesthesia, discovery and use of, 261. 
Anderson, Dr., early engraving by, 832. 
Andover Theological School, 393. 
Aniline, origin and value of, 149. 
Annapolis, Md., Naval Academy at, 896. 
Anthracite coal, use of, in iron-making, 23; first snccessful 

application of, 25-6; first knowledge and use of, 120; 

feological position of, 122; composition and varieties of, 
23; strata of, illustrated, 131-2; mining of, 142; open 
quarries of, 14:? ; concentration of beds of, 144 ; breaking 
and screening of, 147; employment of, in house-warm- 
ing, 24S. 
Appalachian coal-basin, 124. 
Appalachian mountains, gold mines of the, 64. 
Appleton, D.. &, Co., Bales of Webster's Spelling-book, Ac, 
by, 2M, 26a 



Aqna regia, 107. 

Aquatint engraving, 334 

Architecture, domestic, 245 ; modern improvements in, 247. 

Argentiferous lead ores, methods of working. 90. 

Arizona, rich gold deposits of, 71 ; silver mines of, 115. 

Arkansas, magnetic ir<m in, 32; zinc in, 98; banks in, 207. 

Arks, transportation of coal by, 136. 

Arrastre, the, description and illustration of, 75. 

Arsenic associated with zinc, 100. 

Arts of design in America, 316. 

Assay office, New York, gold deposits at the, 79 ; establish- 
ment of the, 215. 

Associated Press, the, 303 ; use of the telegraph by, 313. 

Aster Library, 424. 

Atlantic cities, account of the, 181 ; table of exports of the, 
187; of imports, 192. 

Atlantic Mutual Marine Insurance Company, 223. 

Atlantic Telegraph, history of the, 314, 

Atwood, Luther, patent coal-oil kiln of, 158. 

Audubon, John James, career and works of, 283. 

Austin, Moses, mining operations of, 86. 

Authors, American, 274 ; younger, list of, 281. 

Bachus, Elijah, manufacture of cannon by, 19. 

Backus, Levi S., deaf-mute editor, 439. 

Backus, Senator F. F., report of, upon the instruction of 
idiots, 443. 

Bacon, Rev. Samuel, proposal of, for an educational journal, 
398. 

Bain's electro-chemical telegraph, 310 (illustration), 812. 

Baldface Mountain, N. H., iron ores of, 24. 

Baltimore, iron mines near, 22; the charcoiil iron of, 23; 
copper smelting at, 59 ; chrome at, 118; receipts of coal 
at, 139; origin, growth, and commerce of, 183; orphan 
asylums in, 445. 

Baltimore Company's open coal mines, Wilkesbarre, Pa., 
picture of, opposite 137; account of, 144. 

Baker, George A., painter, 325. 

Bakoo, the petroleum of^ 161. 

Bancroft, George, 284. 

Bank note engraving, 3-33. 

Bank of the United States, the, charter of, 200-201 ; winding 
up and recharter of, 201 ; operations of, 201-2; removal 
of the deposits from, 202 ; State charter and failure of, 
203. 

Banking, method of, in New York, 193; Suffolk system ol^ 
203; safety -fund and free, 204; National and private, 
211. 

Banks, disastrous speculations of, 170, 172; State, establish- 
ment and operations of, 199 ; over-issues of, 200 ; oppo- 
sition of, to the United States Bank, 201 ; suspension of, 
in 1814, 201 ; increase and expansion of, 202; failure of, 
in 1837, 203; history of, 203-9; table of, 1791-1860, 209; 
method of transacting business by, 210; settling of bal- 
ances by, 210-11. (See National banks.) 

Bare Hill copper mine, Maryland. 49 ; chromium at, 118. 

Barnard, Henry, educational journ.als edited by, .398-9. 

Barnes, A S., & Co., sales of school books by, 268. 

Bars, iron, how made, 39. 

Bartlett, J. R., illustration of the New Almaden quicksilver 
mine by, 114. 

Barytes, sulphate ot, used in adulterating white lead, 95. 

Beaumont's method of arresting lead fumes, 90. 

Bedsteads and bedding formerly used, 250. 



INDEX 



573 



Beeeher, Miss Catharine IL, 286 ; efforts of, for female educa- 
tion, 405. 
Belfjium, zinc manufacture in, 101. 
Belleville, N. J., cupper mine at, 49. 
Bell-niel:il, cornposilion and use of, 68, 120. 
Bolls, pnichiition of, G3. 
Bonnet, William James, painter, 820. 
Bennett, James Gordon, 808. 
Benton, Thomas H., works of, 277. 
Benzole, character and use of, 14S. 
Berkeley, Sir William, report of, upon education In Virginia. 

S41. 
Berks county. Pa., iron mines of, 26. 
Bi-rksliiro, Mass., iron mines and furnaces of, 24. 
Bethloluiii, I'a., inanufiicturo of zinc at, 99, 104; Moravian 

foiiialo seminary at. .'U'J, 404. 
Beuthoii, Silesia, zinc mines at. 102. 

Bible, the, early printin;; of, 268 ; issues and low price of, by 
the Bible Society, 2()4 ; Charlemagne's, 26t, 274; xh» 
educational influences of, 881-2. 
Bible Societies, formation of, 264. 
Bills of credit. State, constitutional prohibition of, 199. 
Binitham, Caleb, girls' school of, 405. 
Birch, Thomas, rtarine p.iinter, 322. 
Birmingham, Kng., manufacture of nails at, 41. 
Bishop sleoves, 258. 

Bituminous coal, first trade in, 121 : geological position of, 
122; character and kinds of, 122; s|)ontaneous combus- 
tion of. 124; beds of, 129 ; mining of, 141. (See Gas, and 
Coal oils.) 
Black jack, 96. 

Black river. Wis., iron mines of, 30. 
Blanc de neige, 104. 

Blast furnaces in the colonies, 17 ; construction and working 
of, 32; American, superior economy of, 33; illustrations 
of, 34, 35; tables of production and distribution of, 46. 
Bleaching powder, manufacture of, from manganese, 119. 
Blende, zinc ore, 96. 

Blind, the, institutions for the mstruction of, 4-39; alphabets 
for, 440; course of instruction of, 441; printing for, and 
writing by, 441 ; etatistics of, 457. 
Block-tin lining of lead pipe, 92. 

Bloodgood & Ambler, silver-lead smeltins works of, 91. 
Bloom'aries, description and working of, 36; localities of, 37. 
Blooms, iron, how made, 39. 
Blue mass, preparation of, 115. 

Blue Ridge, the, copper ores of, 49-50; lead mines of, 88. 
Boghead cannel coal, 123; composition of, 147. 
Bog ores, iron, 22. 
Boiler-plate iron, production of, 41. 
Boise Basin gold mines. Id.tho, 71. 
Bonnets, fashions of, 254, 257. 258, 259. 
Book-binding, 209; illustrations of machines for, 270, 271; 

origin of, 272; processes of, 272. 
Books, ancient cost of, 262; effect of the discovery of print- 
ing upon, 263 ; early market for, in New England, 26;J ; 
religious, cheapening of 2t>4 ; process of the manufacture 
of, 264; methods of the sale of, 265; old, the trade in, 266; 
subscription, publication of, 267 ; great sales of^ 267 ; sta- 
tistics of, 269 ; increased cost and use of, 269; sizoB of, 
272. 
Booksellers, American Company o^ 268, 264; number and 

classes of, 2C5. 
Bookstalls, the business of, 266. 
Book trade, the, 262; competition in, 264 ; number engaged 

in, and operations of, 265; the statistics of, 269. 
Book trade sales, 26.5. 
Borne'), platinum from, 107. 

Boston, origin, growth, and commerce of, 185; banking sys- 
tem of, 203--4; early bookselling at, 263; early town pro- 
vision for schools in, :3.89; past experiences in the high 
schools of, 390, 891 ; orphan asylums in, 445. 
Boston Athenaium, art gallery of the, 335; library of the, 423, 

427. 
Boston City Library, 424, 425-6 (illustrations). 
" Boston Courant," the, 301. 
Braidwood, Thomas, in Virginia, 435. 
Braidw(K(ds, the, deaf-mute instructors, 485, 4.38. 
Braille's system of writing and printing for the blind, 441. 
Bramah's pump for making lead pipe, 92. 
Brass, manufacture and uses of, 62. 

Bray, Kev. Thomas, libraries in Maryland established by, 34S. 
Bread, kinds of, formerly most used, 262. 
Breckenridge Coal Oil Works. Kentucky, 15t 
Bremen, regulations for emigrants at, 233. 
Brick, invention of machines for, 244. 
Bridgewater, Vt, gold at, 64. 
Bridgewater copper mine, New Jersey, 49. 
Bristol, Conn., copper mine at, 49. 
British coal-fields, the, i:W. 
Britisli imuiii^ratiou into thu United States, 234-5. 



Brokers, board of. New Vork. 195. 
Bronze, composition of, 62, ftl, 120 
Brooklyn, manufacture of white leiui In, 940; orphan MTlomi 

in, 445. ' 

Brooks, Mrs. Maria, 28.5. 
Brown, Charles B., works of, 273. 
Brown, llonry Kirke, .vulptor. works o.' 82fi 
Brown, Thomas, deaf-mute. 4;19. 

Brown, William, process of, for dry distillation of codl oil. 18a 
Brown coal, beds of, 122. 
Hrown University, origin of, 844. 
Brownson, Orestes A., writings of, 2S2. 
Bruce, George, Jr., type-ciistlng machine Invented by 29& 
[truce, (loorgo, Sr., stereotyping introducod liy. 800. 
Bryant, Williura C, 2^t. 
Buckingham, .Joseph T., letter of, U[K)n his early school ec 

penence, 3.')9. 
Buckminster, Joseph S., 2-^2. 
Bulfalo, origin, growth, and tratle of, 1T6. 
Buhrstone iron ore, 22. 
Building a,ssociation8, fallacy of, 22.5. 
Buildings, ventilation of, 249. (See Houses.) 
Bulls and bears, in stock operations, lli.'>. 
Burden, Henry, rotary squeezer invented bv, 39; machines 

of, for spikes and horso-shoes, 43. 
Bureaus, former style of, 250. 

Burke rocker, the, illustration and description of, 74. 
Burmah, tlio petndeum of, 161. 
Burm-tt, .John T., deaf-mute writer, 439. 
Burning-fluid, use of, for light, 2M. 
Burr, Thomas, process of, for making lead pipe, 91. 
Burra Buna Mining Company, .50, 61. 
Bushnell, Horace, 282; extract from, upon the homespun era 

of common schools, 869. 
Bushnells anthracite stove, 243. 

Hussey, Benjamin, be(iuost of, to Harvard College, 401. 
Bustle, use and construction of the, 258. 
Butler, K. H., <k Co., sales of school books by, 268^ 
Butler, W. Allen, 281. 

Calamine, silicate of zinc, 96, 97. 

Calash, the, for the head, 264, 258. 

Calhoun, .John C, career and works of, 277. 

California, history, methods, and yield of gold-mining in, 71-3 ; 
quicksilver mines of, 111-12; silver mines of, 116; petro- 
leum in, 167. 

California Quicksilver Mining Association, 112. 

Camphine, introduction an<l use of, 2.5:1 

Canada, railroads of, 173; public imi)rovements and trade o^ 
179; effect of the reciprocity treaty with, 179. 

Canada E.ast, gold mines oC 64. 

Canada West, oil region of, 167. 

Canals, in California, for gold-mining. 72 ; built for coal trans- 
portation, 139, 140 (table); opeiiinirof, 171, 172; etfect of, 
upon Western tnido and sottknunt, 172. 

Candles, paratline, manufacture of, 15'J ; use and varieties of, 
253. 

Cannel coals, use of, in manufacturing gas, 1.50. 

Cannon, manufacture of, in the revolution, 19. 

Cape Breton, coal-field of, 129. 

Carbonate of iron, ores and mines of. 21. 

Carlin, John, deaf-mute artist, 489. 

Carlisle tables, the, of average duration of life, 224; inaccura- 
cy of, 226. 

Carpets, early use oC 2.50. 

("astillero, Andres, working of cinnabar by, 112. 

Cast iron, manufacture of, 82 ; uses of, 86; decarbonizing o^ 
86; manufacture of steel from, 44. 

Castle Garden, New York, emigrant depot, 240. 

Central Park, the, of New York, 190. 

Ceracchi, sculptor, career of, 826. 

Chairs, old and new varieties of, 250. 

Chami)lain canal, opening of, 171. 

Chandler, Al.iel, 401. 

Chandler Seieiitilic Scho(d, 400. 

Chaniiing, Williatn K., writiniis of, 2^1. 

Chapman, .lohn G., painter and designer, 828, 

CharactiT, formation of, 8N5. 

(Charcoal, \ise of, in iron-making, 22. 

('harlem.agne'8 Bible, 264, 272. 

(^liarleston, origin, growth, and commerce of, 138. 

cliirleston Library Society, 42:3. 

Charlotte, N. C, branch mint at, 64; gold deposits at, . 

Chatham, Conn., cobalt mine at, 18; nickel at, 117. 

Chaudiere river, gold mines of, &i. 

Cheever, Kev. George H., D. D.. 280. 

Cheever, Ezokiel, echoolmaster, 340. 

Cherokee lands, the, of Gcorcia, 69. 

Chesapeake, iron mines on the, 22. 

Chesapeake and Ohio canal, chiirter for, ITL 

Cheater county, I'u., IcuU mines oi; txi. 



574 



INDEX 



Chestnut Hill iron mine. Pa., 20; account of, 27. 

Chicago, tnule and railroad system of, 177; shipments of flour 

and grain from, 178. 
Chicago City University, view of, 412. 
Child, Mrs. Lydia Maria, works of, 285. 
Children's Aid Society, New York, 449. 
Chilian mill, the, 75. 

Chillicothe. Ohio, first land office opened at, 169. 
Chinii, quicksilver mines of, 111. 
Chinese immisiration into California, 232. 
Chlorine, manufacture of, from manganese, 119. 
Chrome, composition and sources of, 113; uses and treatment 

of, 118. 
Chrome iron in Maryland, 27, 28. 
Chrysocolla, 48. 

Church, lan<lscape paintings of, 825. 
Cinnabar, 111 ; early knowledge of, in California, 112; metal- 

lurgic treatment of, 114 
Cincinnati, origin, growth, and trade of, 180. 
Circular saw, invention or the, 247. 
Cities, lake, account of, 176; recapitulation, 178; river, 180; 

recapitulation, ISl ; Atlantic, 181. 
Clausthal, load-melting at, 89 ; treatment of argentiferous 

ores at, 116. 
Clay, Henry, 277. 

Clay's plan for making wrought iron, 87. 
Clearing-house system, the, 210. 
Clerc, Laurent, deaf-mute, 435, 489. 
Clergymen, distinguished, list of, 282. 

Cleveland, origin and trade of, 17(^; direct tr.ade of, with Eu- 
rope, 177. 
Clevenger, Shobal Vail, sculptor, 826. 
Cliff copper mine, the, 53. 

Clinton, De Witt, extract from, upon education, 853. 
Clinton county. New York, iron works of, 25; bloomaries 

in, 37. 
Clocks, former styles of, 251. 
Clymer press, the, 2S7. 

Coal, early neglect and first use of, 120; varieties of, 121 ; the 
ash of, 123; composition of ditt'erent kinds of, 122, 123 
(table); qualities of, 123; relative values of, 124 (table); 
geological and geographical distribution of, 124; strata 
of, illustrated, 12;», 130; amount of, available, 133; rela- 
tive amount of, in Europe and America, 134 (table); pro- 
duction of, in eastern Pennsylvania and Maryland, 
1820-18G0, 134-5 (table); transportation of, to market, 
135; table of public works for, 140; mining, general 
account of, 140; useful applications of, 144. (See An- 
thracite, Bituminous, &c.) 
Coal Hill lead mine. New York, 8.3. 
Coal mining, early, on James river, 18. (See Coal.) 
Coal oils, manufacture of, 155; table of American factories of, 
155; history and method of the manufacture of, 156; 
coals used for, 157; retorts for, 157; kilns and pits for, 
15S; process of refinins, 153; uses of, 160; use of, for 
light, 100, 252. (See Petroleum.) 
Coal tar, pnxluction and composition of, 148. 
Coats, fashions of, 25:5, 257, 253. 
Cobalt, mine of, at Chatham, Conn., 18 ; use of, 116 ; ores and 

mines of, 117 ; treatment of, 117. 
Coinage, colonial, 212-13; adoption of Jefferson's plan of, 
213; modifications of, 214, 215; table of, 179;W860, 214; 
of silver, number of pieces, 216; process of, 217 ; of pla- 
tinum, 107. 
Coins, foreign, in the colonies, 218. 
Coke, production of, 1.50; from coal-oil works, 159. 
Cole. Thomas, career and paintings ot^ 324. 
College of New Jersi'y, charter of, 348. 
Colleges in the United States, 392 ; table of, 452-3. 
Colliery slope and breaker at Tuscarora, Pa., picture, oppo- 
site 139; description of, 142, 144. 
Colonies, the, issue of paper money by, 198; coinage in, 

212-13 ; literature in, 274; education in, 337. 
Colorado, gold mints of, 71. 
Columbia (!ollc:re, New York, origin of, 347. 
Columbian or (.'lymer press, the, 2S7. 
Coluinbitc and coUunbium, discovery of, 18. 
Combination press, the, 2S7. 
"Commercial Advertiser," New York, 302. 
Commerci.al schools, 403. 
"Common School Alnumac," 398. 
"Common School Assistant," 398. 

Common schools, accounts of the early state of, .35.5-80 ; State 
provisions for the maintenance of, 385-6; present condi- 
tion of, 3S7. 
"Common Sense," Paine's, 275. 
Communipaw, N. J., zinc manufacture at, 104. 
Congress, school laws of, 354; library of, 423, 427. 
Connecticut, early mining in, 17 ; iron mines and fiirnacesof, 
24: copper mines of, 48; lead min^s of, 82; manufacture 
of tin in, 120; town action for schools in, 339; colonial 



legislation of, upon education, 844; provisions of, for the 

support of schools, 386. 
"Connecticut Common School Journal," 398. 
Continental money, issues and depreciation of, 199, 245. 
Cooking, former method of, 253. 
Cooking range, the, 253. 
Cooper, James Fenimore, difflculty experienced by, in getting 

a book printed, 264 ; works of, 279. 
Cooper Union, New York, 434. 
Copley, John Singleton. 318. 
Copper, ores of, 48; mines of, 48 et seq. : process of mining, 

on Lake Superior, 52 ; statistics of. .56-8 ; ancient uses of, 

60; modern uses of, 61 ; sheet, manufacture of, 61 ; alloys 

of, 61, 62-3; mines of, 116. 
Copper mining in the colonies, 18. 
Co[)per-plate engraving, 833. 
CoppiT-smelting, 58 ; processes of. 59. 
Coram, Robert, account of country schools by, in 1791, 878. 
Corneirs le.ad-pipe machine. 92. 
Cornwall, Pa., iron mines of 26. 
Costume, chantres in, illustrated, 25-3. 
"Courier and Enquirer," New York, 302. 
Crawford, scul[)tor, career and works of, 827. 
Credit system, of New York, 191-2. 
Cretins, Dr. Guggenbiibl's school for, 443. 
Crockery, former style of, 251. 
Croton aqueduct, the, 249. 
Crucibles for steel-making, 44, 45. 
Cuba, the bitumen of, 161. 
Cumminss, Thomas S., miniature painter, 32.3. 
Cupellation of argentiferous lead, 90. 
Cupola furn.aces for copper slags, 60. 

Currency, n.ational issues of. 211. (See Banks, Paper money.) 
Curtius, Dr. Alexander Carolus, 847. 
Cut nails, invention of, 41, 246. 

Daguerreotyping, introduction of, 261; American use and 
improvement of, 335. 

Dahlonega, Ga., branch mint at, 64; gold-mining at, 70 ; gold 
deposits at, 79. 

Damascus Steel Company, 44. 

Danville. Pa., iron furnaces at, 24. 

Darley, F. O. C, designer, 325. 

Darlincrton, William, letter of, upon country schools, 370. 

I>artmouth College, origin of, 845. 

Davenport, Kev. John, 839, 340. 

Davidson county, N. C, gold in, 69 ; lead in, 84 

Davidson sisters, the, 286. 

Davis, John, .account of .an old field school in Virginia by, 377. 

Davy, Sir Humphry, improvement in copper sheathing by, 61. 

Day, Benjamin H.,' first penny paper published by, 30.3. 

Deaf and dumb, the institutions for the instruction of, 434; 
natural condition of. 437; methods of instructing, 438; 
distini;uished individuals among, 439 ; statistics of, 456 
(table). 

Deep Kiver co.al-beds. North Carolina, 129. 

Delaware, banks in, 205 ; colonial school leirislation of, 349. 

Delaware and Hudson canal, coal transportation of, 139. 

De I'Epee's method of deaf-mute instruction, 435, 438. 

Demand notes issued by Government, 211. 

Dentistry, use of platinum in, 109. 

Detmold, C. E., report of, 104 

Detroit, copper- smelting at, 60'; origin and railroad connec- 
tions of, 177. 

Dewey, Orville, works of, 282. 

Die sinking, 334. 

Discounts by banks, 199, 200. 

District of (.kilumbia, b.anks in, 209. 

Dollar, the Spanish, 213. 

Dorn srold mine. South Carolina, 69. 

Doughty, Thomas, painter, 324. 

Drake, Col. E. L., petroleum production developed bv, 163. 

Dress, styles of. by periods, 25:3 ; illustr.ations of, 255^6. 

Drummers for New York jobbing houses, 188. 

Dry (liir-in-s. gold, 72. 

DubiKpie, (lisiovery of lead mines at, 18. 

DubuqiK', Julien, lead mines worked by, 84. 

Dummer, Gov. William, educational legacy of, 844. 

Dunlap, William, painter and author, 319. 

Diuiind, Asher B., landscape and portrait painter, 323. 

Dutch colonization in America, 229. 

Dutch irol.l-leaf, SO. 

Dutcli West India Company, educational policy of the, 338. 

Dutchess coimty, N. Y., lead mines of, S2. 

Dwight. Hon Edmund, 4it0. 

Dwii'lit, Timothy, D. 1)., works of, 281 ; school of, at Green- 
field, 40.5. 

Dyesloni' iron ore in Tennessee, 23. 

East India School, the. at Charles City, Va., 837. 

Eaton, A. K., inventions of, for decarbonizing cast iron, 36 ; 



INDEX 



for maki lis: step], 44; improvement of, In amalgamation 
76; ciiui|)ouuils of chromium obtained by, 119. ' 

Eaton, Governor, of New Uaven, promotion of education bv 
840. ■" 

Eaton, N. II., lead mine at, S2. 

Eaton copper mine. Penn.^vlvania, 49. 

Edmonds, Francis W., paiiiter, 823. 

Education in the colonies, S3T ; revolutionary and transitional 
period of, Hrit ; extracts upon the benefits of, :i.V2 ; aetiun 
of Conirress upon. 354 ; social influences favorable to. :Utt; 
considenitions upon the nature of, BWi ; upon the present 
eystem <if. R^") ; woiks ou the principles and methods c>f, 
89T; journals of, 39S. 

Edwards, Jonatliiin. 2V4. 

Ehiiin^rer. .Inliu W., painter and designer, 825. 

Electrulypini.', process of, 800. 

Eliot anil Storer, analysis of zinc hy, TOO. 

Ellenville, N. Y., lead and copi.er mines at, 82. 

Elliott, Charles L.. [mrtniit painter. 825. 

Emancipation proclamation, effect of the, upon the book 
trade, 2t>it. 

EmbossinsT nuichine, for books, 271 (illustration), 272. 

Emerson, George B., youns; ladies' school of, 405. 

Emerson, Ilev. Joseph, young ladies' school of, 405. 

Emigration, early, to America, 229 ; from German v, 232 ; from 
Great Britain, 234; from Ireland. 285; English law for 
the regulation of. 236; Commission of; at New York, 
operations of, 240 ; statistics of, 240. 

Emigrants, treatment of. at Liverpool, 236; care of, at New 
York, 240; t:il>U' of location of, 242; expenses and capital 
of, 24;?; remittances of. 243. 

England, introduction of illuminating gas into, 145; origin of 
newspapers in, 301-2. 

English, the, colonization of America by, 229. 

English basement house.s, 247. 

Engraving in the United States, present and past state of, 
illustrated, 320, 831 ; wood, improvements in, 832 ; cop- 
perplate and .steel, 833. 

Enrequita quicksilver mine. California, 112. 

Eiiuitatile lAt\: Insurance Company, London, 22.'5. 

Erie canal, construction of, 171; eifect of, upon western trade 
and settlement. 172. 

Erie, Pa., buildina of Perry's fleet at, 169-70. 

Erie railroad, 172. 

" Essays to do Good," by Cotton Mather, 274. 

Essex county, N. Y.. iron mines of, 25; bloomaries in, 37. 

Etching, process of. 334. 

Eureka copper mine. Tennessee, 50. 

Evcleth and Dissell. petroleum operations of, 162. 

" Evening Post," New York, 302. 

Everett, Alexander, career of. 277. 

Everett. Edward, career of. 277; account of former school life 
in Boston by, 301 ; at Harvard College, 392. 

Exchange, course of. at New York, 198-4 ; par of, how ascer- 
tained, 212. 

Exports of the Atlantic cities, table of, 187. 

Express, transmission of newspapers by, 306. 

Expresses, origin and extension of, 188. 

Extension tables, invention of, 250. 

Faculties, development of the, 884 

Fairmount Water Works, 249. 

Falling Creek. V.a., iron works at, 17. 

Family instruction, colonial law for, in Mas.sachusetts, 843. 

Family training, educational influence of, 3Sl. 

Fanny Fern, 2S6. 

Farmers' HiL'h t^chool of Pennsylvania, 402. 

Fashions, changes in. illustrated, 253. 

Fay, Theodore S.. works of, 280. 

"Federalist." the, 275. 

Felt hats, introduction of, 253. 

Female education. 404. 

Female writers, list of. 2S5. 

Fiction, great sales (.f books of, 267; -wTiters of, 278. 

Field, Cyrus W., estalilishmenl of the Atlantic telegraph by 

the efforts of. 314. 
Fine arts, instruetiun in the, 404. (See Arts of design.) 
Fire, losses bv. 223. 

Fire insurance c<impanies, 220; statistics of, 222, 223. 
Fire-places, old-fashioned, 246. 
Fisher, .\lvan, paintt-r. 320. 
FIske, llev. Wilbur. 40.^ 
Flemineton copper mine. New Jersey, 49. 
Flint, Timothy, works of 2bl. 
Flint glass made with u\U\n of zinc, 107. 
Florida, o^ssion of. ITl ; banks in, 209. 
Folding machine, the. for bi>oks, 272; for newspapers, 306. 
Food, former kindn and preparation of, 252. 
Foreigners in the United States, 228. 
Forks, kinds of, 2.'>1. 
Foundries, iron, 36. 



Four-color printing prcs.s, the, 297; illustration of, 294. 
Kowle, William 11., account of the ca ' " 



890. 



early Boston ccUooU by. 

Fractional currency, national, 211. 

Franconia, N. IL, iron mines and works of, 24. 

Franklin, Benjamin, iH'quest of, to the city of Boston. 199; 
works of, 275; the press used bv, 2s(), L's9 (illustration); 
first editorial experience of, 801'; the " Philadelphia Ga- 
zette" of, 805; educational proposals of, 349; lyceams 
oriirinated by, 43.3. 

Franklin, Piu, petroleum at, 10.8. 

Franklin copper mine. New Jersev, 49. 

Franklin copper mine, the, of Michigan, 54 ; production of, 68. 

Franklin Institute, the, 40;j. 

Fnuikliiiite iron ore, 2Ii. 

Kninklinite, manufacture of, from zinc ores, 105-6. 

Frasee, .lohn, scul^)tor, 326. 

Fraaer, Charles, miniature painter, 321. 

Fremont, Col., the mining operations of, 73. 

Freneh iiidernnity, l)aymenl of the, 21.'). 

French Ury.ilution. fashions during the, 254. 

Friedlan<ler"s alphabet for the blind, 440. 

Frock coat, introduction of the, 257. 

Fry, Richard, bookseller, advertisement of, 26.8. 

Fuel, use of gas for, 15.8. 

Fuels used in iron-smelting, 20; for puddling, 38. 

Fuller, S. Margaret, 2S.5. 

Fulton, Uobert, as an artist, 818. 

Furnaces, iron, construction of, for anthracite. 23; location 
and working of, 23; for cop|ier-smeltint, 5S. 59; ftjr lead- 
smeltinLr. SS; for zinc. 99, 104 ; for quicksilver, 114; hot- 
air for heating, 24S. (See Blast furnaces.) 

Furniture, manufacture and varieties of, 249. 

Galena, lead ore, 81. 

Galena and Chicago railroad, 173. 

Gallaudet, Kev. Thomas II., labors of, for the instmction of 
the <leaf and dumb, 435 ; system of. 43S. 

Galvanized iron, inventicju, nianulacture, and uses o^ 40. 

Game, former use of, for food, 252-3. 

Gap copper mine, the, 18. 

Gas, illuminatins. history of, 145; cost of, 146; table of com- 
panies for, 146; table of works for, by states, 147; con- 
stituents of, 147; combustion of. Hs; construction of 
works for, and process of manufacturins. 149; coals nsed 
for, 150; the measurement of 150; economy in the nsa 
of, 151 ; mode of testing the quality of, 152; from other 
materials than coal, 152; for steamboats and railroad 
cars, 153; use of, for fuel. LOS ; introduction o^ for light- 
ing streets and hcuise.s, 249. 

Gas-holders, e(uistrueti<in of. l.M. 

George IV., f ishiotis introduced by, 257. 

Georgia, iron mines and furnaces of, 28; cojiper mines of. 50 ; 
gold mines of, 63, 69 ; banks in, 20S; early schools of, 850 ; 
school holiday in, 873. 

German imiiiiL'rafion into the United States, 232; motives of, 
233 ; luuiie ettbrts to check, 2:54 ;_cause8 of, 234. 

German sihir, comiiosition of, 63, 117. 

Gift-book system, the. 266. 

Girard. Stei.hen, purchase of the United St-ites Bank by, 201. 

Girard College, view of, 408; organization of, 446. 

Gisborne, F. N., telesraph engineer, 814. 

Glass made with oxide of zinc, 107. 

Gleason's " American gas-burner," 152. 

Gold, imitations of. 62 ; localities aii<l mining of, in the Ap- 
palachian ranse, C:J-70: in the Kockv Mountains. 70 ; in 
California. 71 ;' production of. ls4--l.-."2, 73; natimd dis- 
tribution of, 73; variation in the value of native, 77; mint 
deposits of 77-79 (tables); u.ses m;ide of. sil; platinum 
associated with, 107; iridium. 110; cour.^e of the tnidc in, 
193; coin.a^e of, 214 ; coins of, 215; ndiit deposits of, 216. 

Gold Hill, N. C., gold-mining at, 69. 

Gold-leaf, manulartiire and uses of, 80. 

Gold-miniUL'. illustrations of. G.VS; processes of, T2-V. 

Gong, Chinese, American manufacture of the, 63. 

Gordon, J. W. W., 115. 

Gotha Life Insurance Company, Germany, 225. 

Gould, .Miss Hannah F., 2S6. 

Grafton, Ohio, the petroleum of, 167. 

Graham, .\ugustus, jirocess of, for making white lead, 94. 

Grain, tables of Western shipments of. 178. 

Grand Trunk railway, the, of Canadis 179. 

Graphite, geoloiiical position of 122. 

Grates, use of for anthracite, '248. 

Gravel walls, 246. 

Gray, llenrv Peters, painter, 325. 

Great Britain, development of the iron manufacture of, 19, 
lead mines of, 87 process of zinc manufacture In, TO; 
thickness of the coal-beds of, 133; succession of races in, 
22S; emiirration from. 229. 

Green Mountains, the, iron mines of; 24. 



576 



INDEX 



Greenbacks, 211. 

Greene, E. D. E., painter, 325. 

Greenough, Horatio, sculptor, career of, 826. 

Greenwood furnace, the, 25. 

GriggstowD, N. J., copper mine near, 49. 

Guadalupe quicksilver mine, California, 112. 

Guggenbuhl, Dr. Louis, institution of, for cretins, 443. 

Gun metal, composition and uses of, 62-3, 120. 

Guyton de Morveau, zinc paint first recommended by, 103. 

Habersham county, Ga., gold mines of, 63. 

Hall, James, works of, 280. 

Hall, Rev. Samuel Eead, first teachers' seminary opened by, 

399. 
Halleck, Fitz-Greene, poems of, 281. 
Hamilton's report, 275. 
Hanging Eock iron district, the, 29. 
Harding, Chester, portrait painter, 321. 
Hare, Robert, fusion of platinum by, 109. 
Harnden, W. F., express business originated by, 188. 
Harper & Brothers, publishers, 264, 265; the operations of, 

268. 
" Harper's Weekly," 307. 
Hartford Society for the Improvement of Common Schools, 

398. 
Harvard, John, bequest of, to Harvard College, 342. 
Harvard College, foundation of, 342; Everett's account of life 

at, fifty years ago, 392. 
Harv.ird University, Scientific School of, 401 ; library of, 424 
Harvey's or Salter's plan for making wrought iron, 37. 
Hats, fashions of, 253, 257, 258. 
Haiiy, Valentin, labors of, for the blind, 439. 
Havre, Germ:in emisration by way of, 233. 
Hawthorne, Nathaniel, career and works of, 280. 
Hays, W. J., animal painter, 325. 
Head-dresses, old styles of, 254, 258. 
Heinicke's method of deaf-mute instruction, 435, 433. 
Hematite iron ores and mines, 20 ; distribution oil 24. 
Henry, Alexander, copper mining by, 51. 
Henry, Patrick, 275. 

Hewitt, Abram S., on iron production, 19. 
Hicks, Thomas, portrait painter, 325. 
Highlanders, emigration of, to the United States, 229. 
Hildreth, Richard, 284. 
Historians, minor, list of, 284. 
Hitz, John, first American maker of zinc, 99. 
Hoe, Richard M., inventor of the type-revolving press, 288. 
Hoffman, Charles F., works of, 280. 
Holbrook, Josiah, labors of, in founding lyceums, 433. 
Holmes, Oliver Wendell, 281. 
Homes for the Friendless, 449. 
Homoeopathy, introduction of, 260-61. 
Hoofstotter, attempts of, to manufacture zinc, 99. 
Hooker, Herman, 282. 
Hoop skirts, use and construction of, 258. 
Hopkins, Gov. Edward, grammar schools founded under the 

will of, 340. 
Horn-book, the, 413. 

Horse-shoe nails and horse-shoes, machines for, 43. 
Hose-washing in Calilornia, 72. 
Hosmer, Harriet, sculptress, works of, 328. 
Hotel, the modern American, 261. 
Hotels of New Vork, 196. 
Houdon, statue of Washington by, 326. 
Houghton, Dr. Douglass, exploration of the Michigan copper 

mines by, 51. 
Houses, early style of building, 245 ; improvements in, 246-7; 

in the Southern States, 247; improvements in warming, 

248; lighting of, 249, 251. 
House's printing telegraph, 310 (illustration), 311. 
Howe, Mrs. Julia Ward, 286. 
Howe, Dr. Samuel G., 439, 44.3. 
Huancavelica quicksilver mines, Peru, 111. 
Hubbard, Wis., immense iron bed of, 80. 
Hudson river, iron furnaces on the, 23 ; early trade of the, 

1S6. 
Hughes's system of telegraphing, 311. 
Humphrey, Heman, I), f)., letter of, upon the early state of 

common schools, 356. 
Huntington, Daniel, painter, 325. 
Huron copper mine, production of, 58. 
Hydraulic gold-mining, 65. 
Hydmulic works of California, 72. 
Hydr<x;arbon gas, manufacture and character of, 152. 
Hydrocarbon or coal oils, 164. (See Coal oils.) 
Hydropathy, introduction of, 261. 

Idiots, institutions for the training of the, 442 ; modes of 

teaching, 444. 
Idria quicksilver mines. Carniola, 111. 
IlUnois, lead mines of, 84 ; coal in, 124 ; banks in, 80S. 



Illinois Central railroad, 173. 

" Illustrated News," the, 307. 

Immigration into the United States, 230 ; laws regulating, 
231; table of, 1820-1856, 231; sources of; 232 et seq.; 
statistics of, 241. 

Imports and exports of Canada, 179; of Cincinnati, 180; of 
New Orle.ins, 182 ; of Charleston, 183 ; of Baltimore, 183 ; 
of Philadelphia, 164; of Boston, 185; of New York, 187. 

Indiana, banks and banking system of, 205. 

Indian corn, Western crops of, 174; importance of, 175. 

Industrial schools, 449. 

Ingham, Charles ('., painter, 322. 

Ink balls, nse of, in printing, 287. 

Inking machine, hand, 2S7, 290 (illustration); patent hand- 
press steam, 290 (illustration). 

Inman, Henry, painter, 323. 

Inoculation, vaccine, introduction of, 260. 

Insurance, principles of, 219 ; companies, classes of, 220, 221, 
(See Accident, Fire, Life, Marine.) 

Intelligence, general, causes of, 380. 

Intercourse, social, importance of means of, 269. 

Interest, fallacious idea of, 225. 

Iowa, lead mines of 84 ; banks in, 206. 

Ireland, emigration from, 2:^5; efl'ects of misgovemment and 
the famine in, 235; reformatory measures in, 236. 

Iridium and osmium, use and sources of, 110. 

Iridosmium, 110. 

Irish emigrants, impositions upon, at Liverpool, 236; tricks 
of, 288 ; the passage of, 239. 

Irish emigration to the colonies, 229. 

Iron, early exportation of pig, 18; production of, 1828-1856, 
20; princip.il ores of, 20; comparative cost of the pro- 
duction of, 23; distribution of the ores of, 24; kinds of; 
32; production and importations of, 46; domestic, amount 
and value of, 47 ; chromate of, 118. 

Iron manufacture, hi.^torii-.al sketch of, 18; advantages of the 
United States for, 19; materials employed in, 20; fuels 
used in, 22; furnaces for, 23; processes of, 32 (see Cast 
iron. Wrought iron, Sheet iron. Puddling, Ac); statistics 
of, 45; effect of the war upon, and prospects of, 47. 

Iron Manufacturers, Associ.ation of, 45. 

Iron mines, distribution of, 24 et seq. 

Iron mountain, Mo., 31. 

Iron works, early, in the colonies, 17; table of, in 1858, 45i 

Irving, Washington, works of 278. 

Isle Royale, copper mines of. 52, 58. 

Ivison, Phinney, Blakeman & Co., sales of school books by, 
263. 

Jackson, N. H., oxide of tin at. 120. 

James River coal mines, first working of, 18, 121. 

Japanese ambassadors, bill for the entertainment of the, 

197. 
Jarvis, John Wesley, painter, 320. 
Jay, John, extract from, upon education, 853. 
Jay, Vt., chrome mines in, 118. 
Jefferson, Thomas, plan of coinage by, 218; writings of, 275 ; 

plan of a school law by, 342; extract fi-om, upon edaca- 

tion, 352. 
Jewelry used in gift -book sales, quality of, 266. 
Johnson, Eastman, painter, 825. 
Jones, Richard, process of, for making white oxide of zinc 

from the ore, 104. 
"Journal of Commerce," New York, 302. 
"Journal of the Rhode Inland Institute of Instruction," 398, 
Juvenile Asylums, 449, 450. 

Kansas, coal-beds of 124. 

Keeaeville, N. Y., nail factories of, 25. 

Kemble, Mrs. Frances Anne, 286. 

Kennedy, John P., works of, 278. 

Kent, Chancellor, extract from, upon education, .353. 

Kent ore bed. Conn., 24. 

Kentucky, iron mines and furnaces of, 29 ; thickness of th« 

coal-beds of, 133; banks in, 207. 
Kerosene Oil Works, Newn.wn, L. I., 154, 158. 
Keweenaw Point copper mines, 51, 52 ; production of; 67. 
Kidder's gas-regulator, 151. 
King, Chas. B., painter, 320. 
King's College, New York, foundation of, 347. 
Kirkland, Mrs. Caroline M., 285. 
Knife-handles, balanced, 251. 
Konlgshutte, Silesia, zinc works at. 101, 102. 
Kossuth hat, introduction of the, 258. 

Lakes, cities of the, 176; aggregate trade of the, ITl 

Lambdins, the, painters, 82.5. 

La .Motte lead mines. Missouri, 85, 86. 

L»mi>8, varieties of, 251-2. 

Lancaster, Pa., zinc mine near. 97. 

Lancaster county, Pa,, nickel mine In, IIT. 



INDEX 



577 



Land, railroad grants of, 173; sales of, 1821-1860, 174; war- 
runts and donations of, 174 ; atnount of, unsold, 175. 

Land offices, openinar of, 1()9, 170. 

Land sulcs, j-'overnincnt system of, 1C9 ; nmountof, 1700-1820, 
171 ; increase of, from hi)epulatioii and public works, 172. 

Land speculation, evil ert'icts of, 171, 172. 

Land States, increase of population in, 175. 

Landscape painters, 325. 

Lapis •alaniinaris, 9S. 

Lard oil, IM. 

Lawrence, .\bhott. 400. 401. 

Lawrence Scientillc School, 400. 

Law school^>. ;i'.M ; table of. 455. 

Lead, ores of, 81 ; localities of, S2-6: shipments of, from S. 
W. ViTKini!'. ^; from the n[ip<-r Mississippi, S-t; dimin- 
ished production of, 8C; table of production and Imports 
of, 1832-1858, 87; smeltint', methods of, 87; fumes of, 
methods of arrestins:. 90 ; manufactures of, 91 ; separa- 
tion of silver from, 116. 

Lead mininsr in the colonies, 18. 

Lead pipe, inanulacture of. 91 ; use and danper of^ 92. 

Leclaire, process of, for making zinc paint, 103. 

Lectures and lecturers. 433-4. 

Lesral-tender notes, national issue of. 211. 

Legar6, Huirh S., career and writings of, 278. 

Leg-of mutton sleeves, 258. 

Lehigh Coal and Navigation Comi>any, 136. 

Lehigh Coal Mine (."ornpany, 121. 

Lehigh county. Pa., zinc mines of, 97. 

Lehigh region, the. coal producetl in, 1820-1860, 135. 

Lehigh river, sUack-water navigation of, 136; railroad, 139. 

Lehiu'h valKv, iron furnaces in the, 23; iron ores of, 26. 

Leslie, y\rf-. Eliza, 28."). 

Leslie's " Illustrated Newspaper," 807. 

Le Sueur, discovery of le.ad mines by, 18, 84. 

Letter-writers of the IJevolutlon, 275. 

Leutze, Kmanuel, historical painter, 325. 

Liberty, Md., copper mines near, 49. 

Libraries in the United States, 428 ; princip-al, table of, 
429-32. 

Life insurance, statistics and principles of, 224 ; in different 
countries, 225; table of comparative rates of, 226; ten 
years" noii-lorfeitable pl.an of, 227. 

Light, materials used for. 249. 251-2. (See Gas, Coal oils.) 

Lignite, formation and beds of, 122. 

Limestone as a flux for iron ores, 20. 

Line engravinz, process of, 833. 

Lippincott, Mrs. S.arah J., 286. 

Lippincott & Co., publishers, transactions of, 268. 

Liquors, foiiner universal use of. 25.3. 

Litchfield, Conn., girl.s' school at, 405. 

Literature, American, 274. 

Lithography. 3a5. 

Liverp<^ol. fleecing of Irish emigrants at, 236. 

Live-stock insurance rotnp.nnies, 227. 

Lloyd's, marine insurance, 223. 

Loadstone, the, 21. 

Locust Mountain coal-measure, section of, 132, 

Log houses, construction ot. 247. 

Looking-glass plates, preparation of, 114. 

London, marine insurance at, 223. 

Lf»ngfellow. Henry W.. works of, 280. 

Longstreet's "'Georgia Sct-ncs," extract from, 374. 

Lossing, Benson .J., works of. 284. 

Louisa countj-, Va., gold minis of, 64. 

Louisian.i, purchase of. 170; banks in, 203. 

Louisville, origin and growth of, 180. 

Lovell's Latin School. Boston, account of, 390. 

Lowell, .lames Russell. 281. 

Lowell Institute. Boston. 434. 

Lubricating oils from coal, 161. 

Lucesco oil works, 157. 

Lumpkin county, Ga.. gold mines of, 70. 

Luyck, Rev. Dr. iKiiidius, 347. 

Lyceum movement, the. 403. 

Lyceums, 432 ; for mutual instruction, history of, 433. 

Lyon, Miss .Murv. Mount Ilolyoke Female Seminary estab- 
lished by, 405. 

Mackintosh, Miss M. J., 2S.'5. 
McCorniack gold mine, Georcia, 70. 
McDowell county, N. C.. gold-mining in, 69. 
McLean, J. S., first .\merican pianoforU; i)atentce, 260. 
Madison, .James, works of, 275; extract from, upon education, 

35:J. 
Magdalen Asylums, 4.')0. 
Magnetic iron ores, 21 ; localities of, 24. 
M.agnetic Telegraph Company, 818. 
Maine, lead mines of, 82. 
Maine law, the, 260. 
Malnti Telegraph Company, 313, 

35* 



Malachite, green, 48. 

Mallione, Kdward G., miniature painter, 820. 

Mallei's ineihod of making galvanized iron, 40. 

Manassas Gap, Va., copper ores at, 49. 

Man catchers of Liverpool, 23C-7 ; tricks of, 23a 

Manganese, use, sources, and treatment of, 119. 

Manhattan Gas Light Couipany, 145. 

Mann, Ilorac.-, 3S7. 

Manual labor .--chools, 403. 

Maricopa Mining Company (silver), 116. 

Marine insurance, 223 ; table of, in New York, 224 

Mariposa county, Cal., quartz-mining in, 73. 

Marshall. John, works and character of. '-'76. 

Marvland. iron mines and furnaces of, 28 ; copper mines o^ 
49; izo]t\ in, 64; cobalt In, 117; chromium in, 118; coal- 
field of, 124, l!}."); banks in, 205; colonial legislation of, 
upon education, 347. 

Maryland Agricultural College, 402. 

Massachusetts, early iron works in, 17; lead mines of, 82; 
manganese in. 119; coal in, 12^1 ; colonial issues of paper 
money in, 198; colonial coinage of, 212; marine in- 
surance in, 224; life insurance jn, 225 ; colonial legisla- 
tion of, upon education, 342; the constitution and laws 
of, upon education, 38.5. 

Missachusetts Hosiiital and Life Insurance Company, 224 

Massachusetts School for Imbecile and Feeble-minded "Touth, 
44-3. 

M.ather, Cotton, works of 274. 

Mauch Chunk railro.id and coal bu8incs.s, 136. 

Mauch Chunk Summit mine, section of, 132. 

Mecca, Ohio, the |)etroleum of, 167. 

Mechanics, schools for. 40-3. 

Medicul .schools, 394 ; fcible of 4.5.5. 

Melville, David, eft'orts of, to establish the use or gas, 145, 

Meneelv. Messrs., bell foundry of, 63. 

Mercurial medicines, preparation of 11.5. 

Mercury, use of in gold-minin-:, 74, 70; uses of 110; ores of, 
m ; minis and yield of 111; mining of in California, 
112; total producticm of 112; metallurgic treatment oi^ 
114 ; useful applications of 114. 

Mezzotint engraving, 334. 

Michigan, iron mines and furnaces of 29 ; copper mines ot, 
51; coal field of 129; banks in, 200; Agricultural Col- 
lege of 402 ; University of scientific course of, 402. 

Middletown, Conn., argentiferous lead mine at, 18, 82. 

Migration, universality of 228. 

Miiitjiry .\cademy, the, 395. 

Militiirv schools in Virginia, South Carolina, <tc., 396. 

Mills, Clark, sculptor, 828. 

Milson, Mr, Carlisle tables constructed by, 224. 

Milwaukee, origin, srowth, and tnido of, 178, 

Mimbres copper mines, 116. 

Mine Hill, N. J., zinc mines nt, 97. 

Mine la Motte lead mine, 86; cobalt at, 117; nickel at, 117, 

lis. 

Mineral paints, 247. 

Minesota copper mine, the, ancient and minlern working of, 

54 ; production of 56. 
Mining, the < arliest American ch.arter for, 18. 
Mining industry of the LJnited States, history of, 17. 
Minnesota, banks in, '206. 
Mint, tlio Cnited States, establishment of, 213; operations of, 

214 1 1 xeq. (Sec Coinage.) 
Mints, table of gold deposits at the, 78-9. 
Mirrors, silvering of 114. 
Mississippi, banks and banking in, 207. 
Mississippi basin, settlement of the, 170. 
Mississippi valley, the, early stylo of house furniture In, 251. 
Missouri, iron niines of 31; lead mines of, 85; cobalt and 

nickel in, 117, 118; b,anks in, 208. 
Money, oriuin and nature of 2r2. 
Monroe, N. Y., iron beds of 25. 
Montana, gold and silver mines of 71. 
Montour's ridge. Pa., iron mines of, 27. 
.Moor's Indian Charity School, 845. 
Mi>ravian schools in IVniisylvania, 849, 404 
Moresnet, Belgium, zinc mine at, 101. 
Morse, S. F. B., career of as a painter, 822. 
Morse's telegraph apparatus, 80S, 309 (illustration). 
Morris, liobert, report of upon coinage, 213. 
Moselein iron bed, the, 20. 
Motlev, John Lothrop, works of 284. 
Mount, William S., paintings of 323. 
Mount Pisu':ih coal mines, 136; railroad pliine, description »nd 

illustrations of I3t;. 137, 139. 
Muntz's yellow metal, 61. 
Music book.s, sales of 268. 

Nack, James, deaf-mute poet, 439. 

Naco(M-hee vab<-y gold mines, Georgia, 63, 70. 

Nails, uianulucluro of, and American improvements in, 41; 



578 



INDEX 



table of factories and production of, 42 ; process of making, 
42; horse-sboe, 4S. 
Napier press, the, description of, 287; improvements In, 288, 

297. 
National Academy of Design, establishment of the, 319, 323; 

origin anil i)r(igress of the, 335. 
National Bank. See Bank of the United States. 
National banks, system of, 211. 
Naturalization laws, the, 230. 
Naval Aciidcmy, the, 396. 
Nazareth, Pa., Moravian school at, 349. 
Nickel, uses and mines of, 117 ; ores of, 118. 
Neal, Joseph C, writinsa of, 291. 
Neal, Mrs. Alice B. (Haven), 285. 
Nebraska, banks in, 207. 
New Almaden quicksilver mine, California, 112; picture of, 

113. 
Newark, N. J., manufacture of zinc at, 104. 
Newberry, Dr. J. S., opinion of, upon the source of petro- 
leum, 164. 
New Brunswick, N. J., copper mine at, 49. 
Hew England, early iron works in, 17 ; iron mines and fur- 
naces of, 24 ; use of peat in, 122; decline of the whaling 
business of, 1&4; banks in, 203; fire insurance in, 222; 
origin and progress of the book trade in, 263; colonial 
school system of, 3oS. 
New England Primer, specimen of the, 414. 
Newfane, Vt, gold found at, 64. 
Newfoundland, ancient Norse colony in, 22S. 
New Hampshire, iron mines of, 24 ; copper in, 49 ; lead in, 82 ; 
tin mine in, 120; colonial legislation of, upon education, 
345; State law for education in, 386. 
New Haven, early town action for schools in, 338. 
New Jersey, early copper mining in, IS; iron mines and fur- 
naces of, 25; copper mines of, 49; zinc mines of, 97; 
banks in, 205; early schools in, 348. 
New Jersey Franklinite Company, 106. 
New Jersey Zinc Company, 104. 

New Orleans, gold deposits at the br.inch mint of, 78; acqui- 
sition and early commerce of, 170; origin, growth, and 
commerce of, 181 ; trade and valuation of, 1804-1859, 182; 
course of trade and exchange at, 182; competition of 
other places with, 18.3. 
Newsam, Albert, deaf-mute sculptor, 439. 
Newspapers, establishment of, in England, 301 ; in the United 
States, 302; in New York, stiti sties of, 304; advertising 
in, 304; daily, fnrnicr and present business management 
0^305; other classes of, 307; aggregate number and cir- 
cul.ation of, 307. 
New York, iron mines and furnaces of, 24; copper in, 49; lead 
mines of, 82; petroleum in, 167; the canals of, 171; the 
railroads of, 172; issues of paper money by, 199; banks 
and banking systems of, 204; fire insurance in, 221 ; ma- 
rine insurance in, 223; life Insurance in, 224; number of 
foreigners in, 242; Dutch colonial school system in, 338; 
<eolonial legislation of, upon education, 346 ; State school 
law ot, in 1795, 386; school superintendent appointed in, 
886-7; State Library of, 427. 
New York Asylum for the Deaf and Dumb, 436. 
New York Central railroad, 172. 
New York Children's Aid Society, 449. 

New York <>ity, shot towers in, 94 ; introduction of pas into, 
145 ; extent of gas pipes in, 140 ; early trade of, 185 ; trade 
and flnanee centred at, 186; course of trade at, 186; pop- 
ulation, commerce, and valuation of, 1684-1860, 187; 
speculation at, 187; mode of business in, 188; effects of 
discoveries and public improvements upon, 188; move- 
ment of business and population in, 190; railroads and 
telegraphs in. 190; subdivisions and mctho<l8 of business 
in, 191; exports and imports of, 187,192; trade in gold 
at, 193 ; exchange, banking, and stock operations at. 194 ; 
hotels in, 196; the retail trade of, 197; assay office at, 
215; insurance in, 222-4; newspai)ers of, 302; circulation 
of the, 303; Sunday press of, 807; Mechanics' School of, 
403 ; orphan asylums in, 445. 
" New York Express," the, 805. 
New York Gas Light Company, 145. 
"New York Herald," the, 303. 
New York Home for the Friendless, 449, 450. 
"New York Illustrated News," the, 307. 
" New York Journal," the, 307. 
New York Juvenile Asylum. 448. 
"New York Ledger," the, 307. 
New York Society Library, foundation of, 347. 
New York Life an<l Trust Company, 224. 
New York Mercantile Library, 427. 
New York Society Library, 42.3. 

New Y<irk Sta:e Asvlum for Idiots, 448; view of, 444. 
" New York Times." the, 304. 
• New York Tribune." the, 304. 
Normal schools, 397, 399. 



Norsemen, discovery of America by, 228. 

North Carolina, iron mines and furnaces of, 28; copper mines 

of, 60; gold mines of, 63, 69; lead in, 84; cobalt in, 117, 

nickel in, 118; coal-beds of, 129 : banks in, 208 ; colonial 

legislati<in of, upon education, 349. 
Northeast, N. Y., lead mine at, 82. 
Norton, Andrews, 282. 

Norwich Free Academy, Conn., view of, 411. 
" Notes on Virginia," Jefferson's, 276. 
Nott, Eliphalet, 1). D., letter of, upon school- teaching, 362; 

the anthracite stove of, 248. 
Nova Scotia, coal-field of, 129. 

Ohio, iron mines and furnaces of, 29 ; petroleum in, 162, 167; 

government land sales in, 169,170; banks and banking 

system of, 205. 
Ohio Instituti.m for the Deaf and Dumb, 436. 
Ohio State School for Idiots. 448. 
Oil, whale, diminished production of, 154; lubricating, irom 

coal, 160. (See Coal oil. Petroleum.) 
Oil Creek, Pennsylvania, petroleum on, 162. 
Old field school in Virginia, account of an, 377. 
Oleflant gas, composition of, 147. 
t)lmsted. Prof. Denison, 399. 
Olmsted's anlhr.icite stove, 24S. 
Oneida Lake, iron mines near, 2.5. 
Ontonajon copper mines. 52, 54; production of, 67. 
Orators, celebrated American, 275. 
Oregon, platinum in, 107; iridium in, 110. 
Oreide, discovery of, 251. 

Orphans, institutions for the education and training of, 445. 
Orr, Hugh, manufacture of cannon by, 19. 
Orr, Isaac, inventor of the air-tight wood stove, 248. 
Osgood, Mrs. Frances, 286. 
Osmium, 110. 

Oswego, origin, growth, and trade of, 176. 
Ovens, constructiim of, in old-fashioned bouses, 246. 
Ovid, N. Y., agricultural college at. 402. 
Oxide of cobalt, 117; of manganese, 119; of zinc, see Zino 

paint. 
Oxy-hydrogen blowpipe, fusion of platinum by the, 109. 
Owen, D. D., survey of the lead region by, 84. 
Owyhee gold and silver mines, Idaho, 71. 

Packer Collegiate Institute, the, 405, 409-10 (illustrations). 

Page, William, painter, 323. 

Paine, Thomas, revolutionary writings of, 275. 

Painting, academies and sch(x>ls of, 335. 

Painting and painters in the United States, 816. 

Paints, new kinils of, 247. (See White lead, Zinc paint) 

Paletot, introduction of the. 258. 

Palmer, sciiI[)tor, works of. 328. 

Pantaloon, definition of, 257. 

Paper, (irinting, sizes of. 272. 

Paper miiuiy, oi igm. kinds, and use of, 198; comparative de- 
preciation of, in the colonies, 213. 

Paratfine, preparation and use of, 159. 

Parlev, Peter, school recollections of, 363. 

Paiton, Mrs. S. P. W. (Fanny Fern), 285. 

Partridge, Ca[>lain .\lden, military schools of, 396. 

Passaic Mining and Manufacturing (."oiojiany, 104.106. 

Passengers, arrivals of foreign, 1820-1859, 240 ; of native, from 
abroad. 244. 

Patents, number of, issued. 259. 

Patlin^on's method of treating argentiferous lead, 90. 

Paulding. James K.. works of, 278. 

Pawnbrokers, the business of, 197. 

Peabody, George, 427. 4.34. 

Peabiidy Institute. Baltimore, 427. 

Peale, Charles Wils(in, 320; art academy founded by, 835. 

Peale, Rembrandt, career and paintings of, 320. 

Peat, fnrmation and beds of, 122. 

Peele, J. T., painter. 325. 

Peet, Harvey P., 4:-!6. 

Peet, Mrs. Mary Toles. deaf mute poetess, 4.39. 

Pennsylvania, iron mines and works of, 26 ; copper mines of, 
49; lead mines of, 88; zinc mines of, 97; chromium in, 
118; manganese in, 119; lirstuseof thecoal of, 120; chart 
of the anthracite region of, 126-7; coal strata of. 129; 
thickness of the coal-beds of. 135; production of coal in, 
1S2O-1860, 1.34-5; public improvements of, for coal trans- 
port;ition, 1.35; history and production of petroleum in, 
162-3; hanks in, 205; early educational laws and institu- 
tions of, 349. 

Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts, 835. 

Pennsylvania and Lehigh Zinc Company, 104. 

Pennsylvania Asylum for the Blind, view of, 441. 

Pennsylvania caii.al. opening of. 171. 

Pennsylvania Institution for the Deaf and Dumb, 436. 

"Peniisylvania Packet," the, first American daily newspaper, 
301. 



INDEX 



579 



Pennsylvania Rock Oil Company. 168. 

Pennsylvania Society for the pniuiotion of public schools, 898. 

Pennsylvania Training Sicbool for Idiots, 443. 

Penokie ranse, Wis., iionininos of, SO. 

Perkiomen copper mine, Pennsylvania, 49. 

Perkins, Jacob, invention of, in steel engraving, 888. 

Perry's leail mine, Missouri, 86. 

Peru, quicksilver mines of. 111. 

Petroleum, foreign sources of, 161 ; Burmese, pn«hicts of the 
distillation or, 161 ; in the I'nited States, localities ami 
history of. 1G2, 16V; the question of the source of, KU; 
boring w.lls f.ir, 164-.''): flow of, 166; qualities of, 167; 
works for refining, 168 (table). 

Pewabic copper mine, the, 64 ; production of, 68. 

Pewter, composition of, 120. 

Phelps. Mrs. Almira H., 285. 

Phelps's elcctro-niagnetic governor. 312. 

Philadelphiii, resources, origin, and business of, 184; manaee- 
ment of a model store at, iNt ; account of early school- 
teachitis in, 371 ; orplian asylums in, 445, 446. 

"Philadelphia Gazette," Franklin's, 805. 

•• I'liiladtlphia Ledger," the. 304. 

Phila<lelpliia I.ibmry Compiiny, 423, 427. 

Phillips, Col. David M.. deaf-tiiute, 489. 

Phillipi Aeailimy, account of, by Josiah Quincy, 888. 

Phoenixville lead mines. Pennsylvania, 81. 

Photo!.'raphv, introduction and use of, '261. 

PhoUimeter' the. 152. 

Phrt'nology, introduction of the study of, 260. 

Piiyiofortes, American manufnctuie of, 260. 

Pictoii coal mines. Nova Scotia, 129. 

Piermont, N. H., iron ore of, 24. 

Piirirott, A. Snowden, on copper-smelting, 59. 

Pig iron, manufacture of, 32 ; classification of, 36; table of 
production of, 46. 

Pilot Kniib. Mo., iron at, 81; works at, 82, 

Pine-tree shilling, the. 212. 

Pins, manufacture of, 62. 

Pittsburg, ccipper-smelting at. 59, 60; coal mines at, 131; cost 
of mininir at. 141 ; origin, growtli, and business of, 180. 

Pittsburg and IJoston copper mine, i)roduclion of, 58. 

Planing nLiehine, invention ol the. 247. 

Platinum, locjilities, character, and working of, 107; appara- 
tus for working, illustration and description of, 108, 109; 
American consumption of. 110. 

Plnmbagii, geological position of. 122. 

Plymouth cobiny, appropriation lor schools in, 343-4. 

Poe. Edgar A., 281. 

Politics, educiitional influence of, 882. 

Polk county, Tenn.. cpper mines of, 50. 

Polk County Mining Company, 50, 51. 

Polytechnic school.*. 403. 

P'lnv expresses in California, 188. 

"Poor KichanI," 275. 

Poi>uIation, progress of. in the Western States, 171, 174 ; de- 
crease of. in Ireland, 235. 

Porcupine mountains, copper mines of, 52. 

Port;ige lake copper mines, 52,53—1; smelting works, and 
production of, 57. 

Port Henry, N. Y., iron mines of, 25. 

Portland c:\nal, ihe, around the falls of the Ohio, ISO. 

Portsmouth, K. I., coal mine at, 129. 

Post, Edwin, first successful use of anthracite by, 25. 

Postage, cheap, establishment of, 261. 

Potato crop, the, dependence of Ireland upon, 235. 

Pot ore, iron, 2S-0 (note). 

Powers, Hinim. sculptor, career and works of^ 327. 

Preachins. e.lucational < fleets of, 381. 

Prescott, W;lliam II., works of, 284. 

Press, the, of Kmnklin ( famaire press), mode of working, 286; 
picture of. 2S9. (See Printing press.) 

Preveniive and relormatorv institutions. 446. 

Printina, introduction of, in England, 263; processes of, 299; 
for the blind. 441. 

Printing ink, qualities and composition of, 286. 

Printins-pres.s, the, 2S(5; improvements in, 287; illustratittis 
of, 2-59-97. 

Professional schools. 893; tables of. 454, 455. 

Providencia quicksilver mine. California. 112. 

Prussia, aitempts of, to check •■miL'ration. 284 

Publishers, book, number and classes of, 265. (See Book 
trade.) 

Paddling, the process of, 37. 

Putnam county, N. Y., iron mines of, 25, 

Pyrites, freeing of gold from, 76. 

P> ritous Copper ore. 48. 

Pyrolusite. ore of tnanganese, 119. 

Pyromorphite lead ore, 81. 

Quartz minins. 73. 

Queen's CollMge, New -lirsey, foundation of, 848. 



Quicksilver. See Mercury. 

yuincy, Josiah, account of Phillips Academy by, SSS. 

Railroad iron, table of production of, 40, imports of. 173. 

Kailroads for coal transportation, 139, 140 (table): Aii;erican, 
historical sketch of, 172; extent and cost of. 173; stimu- 
lating effects of, 173-4; Canadian, 179; street, in New 
York, 190. 

Railroad ticket tnachine, illustration and operation of, 296. 

Rainanghong, Burnuih, iietroleum at, 161. 

Randall's Island Nursery. 445. 

Readers, hirsv proportion of, in the United States, 262; In- 
crease of, 269. 

Reading railro.ad, construction and operation of the, 135. 

Reciprocity treaty, trade under the, 179. 

Redwood Library, the, 423. 

Reed's gold mine. North Carolina, 68. 

Reformatory institutions, miinagement of, 447. 

Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute. 400. , 

Renton's plan for making wrought iron, 87. 

Retorts in gas works, 149 ; in coal-oil works, 157. 

Reverberatory furnaces, 8S; for lead-melting, 89. 

Revere, J<din W., invention of galvanized iron by, 40. 

Revere Copper Company, the, 58. 

Revolution, orators andwriters of the, 275; inCiience of the, 
upon education, 851. 

Reynolds, L. G., inventor of horse-shoe nail machine, 48. 

Rhine, valley of the, emigration from, to the United btates, 
232; destitution in, 234. 

Rhode Island, coal-field of, 129; early town action for schools 
in, 340; coIoni:il legislation of, upon education, i344. 

Roberts, Dr. E. A. L.. apparatus and process of, for manufac- 
turing platinum plate, 10s, l(!i». 

Rocker, gold-washinsr, picture and description of, 67. 

Rockers, use ot, in gold-mining, 74. 

Rocky Mountains, gold mines of the, 70. 

Rogers, Prof II. D , estimate of the extent of Ann rican coal- 
fields by, 133; of the amount of coal in Europe and 
America, 134. 

Rolling machine, the, for books, 271 (illustration), 273. 

Rolling mills in the tnited States, table of, 40. 

Roofing, use of zinc for, 1(3. 

Roosevelt & Sons, manufacture of mirrors by, 114. 

Rosin oil. manulactiiie of <ras fnim, 152. 

Rossie lead mines. New York. 88. 

Rossiter, Thomas P., paintings <!f, 825. 

I.'otlieriiiel, P. ¥., h'storieal painter, 825. 

l.'uffgles job press, the, 287. 

Rush, Benj.-inin, extract from, upon education, 353; on ardent 
spirits, 260. 

Russ, Dr. John D.. 43. 

Russia, platinum found in, 1< 7. 

Russian-.American telegrajih, the, 315. 

Russian slitet iron, 40. 

Rust, Samuel, press invented by, 287. 

Rutgers Col-ege, New Jersey, origin of, 848. 

Sack coat, introduction of the, 258. 

Safety Eund banks, 204. 

Saflor, ore of cobalt, 117. 

St. John's College. Annapolis, origin of, 348. 

St. Lawrence county, N. V., iron mines of, 25; lead mines 
of, 83. 

St Lawrence river, navigation of the. 179. 

St. Louis, origin, growth, and tra<le of. 181. 

Salisbury, t onn., iron mines of, 20, 24. 

San Francisco, gold deposi.sat the 1 ranch mint of, 78; gold- 
dealing at, 193; branch mint at. '.ilo. 

Sans-.serif alphabet, the. lor the blind. 440. 

Santa Barbnia (piiiksilver mine. Peru. 111. 

S:inta Clara .Mining Company (quicksilvei), 112. 

Santa F§. N<-w Mexico, iron at, 32. 

Santa Rita del Cobre min. s (<-opi.er), 116. 

Sarirent, Wilson A- Hint le. sal. s of school books by, 268. 

Saucon zinc mines, Pennsylvania, 97; aualvses of ores front, 
98. 

Sawing machine, the, for books, 272. 

Saxe. J. G., 281. 

School apparatus, past and jn-esent, iilus rated, 422. 

School-books, early manulactitre of. 26:i; modeif introducing, 
266; great salis of, 208 ; improvements in, illustrated by 
specimens, 413-21. 

School h-liday in Georgia, 878. 

School -h4)uses. early, chariicter of, 857; past and present, illus- 
trated, 406-7. 

Scho<dcralt, Ilenrv R.. 283. 

Schools, town action in behalf of, in the New Enirhind colo- 
nies. 8-39; colonial legislation for, !i4l : elle( t t.f the l.'ev- 
olutiiin upon. 351 ; laws oi ( oiiLrnss upon. -Vti: true use 
of 382-3; secondary or high.-r. leiiisliiti\e neglect of. 888; 
prolessional, scientific, and special, 392. 



580 



INDEX 



Schodls of design for women, 336. 

SchuykT copper mine, New Jersey, IS, 49. 

Schuyllvill, iron mines and furnaces on the, 26, 27. 

Schuylkill region, coal produced in the, 1820-1860, 13i. 

Scientillc schools, 400. 

Scotch emiirnitiiin to the colonies, 229. 

Scotch h"ai th, the, description and illustration of, 88. 

Sculpture and sculptors in the United States, 325. 

Sedgwick, Miss Catharine M., works of, 285. 

Seguin, Dr. Edward, labors of, for the instruction of Idiots, 

443, 444. 
Selligiie. manufacture of coal oil by, l.;6. 
Seneca Indians, use of petroleum by, 162. 
Seneca oil, 162. 

Sewing machines, introduction and benefits of, 261. 
Shaking tables, in gold mining, "5. 
Sharp Mountain, section of the coal-measure of, 132. 
Shawangunk Mountain, lead mines of, 82. 
Shaw, Josiiiia, landscape painter, 322. 
Shear-steel, manufacture of, 44. 
Sheathing, use of copper for, 61. 

Sheet iron, manufacture and uses of, 40; production o^ 41. 
Sheet lead, inaniifacture of, 91. 
Shelburne, N. II., lead mine at, 82. 
Sheplierd mountain. Mo., ii-ou at, 32. 
Shingles, use of, 246. 
Shoes, fashions of, 253, 254, 25T. 
Shot, man-.it'acture of, 92-3; towers for, 94. 
Siberia, platinum in, 107. 

Sicard, Abb6, 435; method of, for deaf-mute instruction, 433. 
Sideboard, use of the, 250. 
Siegenite, nickel ore, 118. 
Sierra Nevada, the, gold mines of, 71, 72. 
Sigourncy, Mrs. Lydia H., 285. 

Silesia, Upper, zinc works of, 101 ; their production, 102. 
Silver, in the Lake Superior copper mines, 53 ; in Idaho, 71 ; 

in lead ores, 81; methods of separating from lead, 90; 

American mines of, 115; ores o£ and their treatment, 

116; coinage of, 214; circulation of foreign, 215; pieces 

of, 216. 
Silvering of mirrors, 114-15. 
Silver-ware and forks, 251. 
Simsbtu-y. Conn., copper mine at, IS, 48. 
Simms, VV^illiam G., works of, 280. 
Skirls, fashions of, 254, 253. 
Sleeves, fashions of, 253. 
Sluice-w.isliing for gold, 72. 
Smalt, pnparation and use of, 117. 
Smelting'. See Copper, Iron, Lead. &c. 
Smith, David, shot-making process of, 93. 
Smith, Mrs. K. Oakes, 285. 
Smith, I'eter, 28T. 
Smithsonian Institute, library of the, 427 ; lectures, &c., of 

the, 434. 
Smithsonite, zinc ore, 96. 

Smyburt, John, portrait p.ainter, 316; Nathaniel, 317. 
Snowhill, Md., bog iron of, 22. 
Social and domestic life, 245. 
Social distinctions, former, 254. 
Society, general progress of, 259. 
Soda and its carbonates, use of, in making steel, 44. 
Solder, soft, composition of, 120. 
Somerville, N. J., copper mine near, 49. 
Sonora Company's silver mine, Arizona, 115. 
Southampton, Mass., lead mine at, 82. 
South Carolina, iron mines of, 28; gold mines of, 6.3, 64, 69 ; 

manganese in, 119 ; banks in,20S; colonial legislation of, 

upon education, 350. 
SoutiiM-n States, the, ir<m mines and furnaces of, 28; domes- 
lie architecture of, 247. 
South Jo^'uins cliffs, coal-measures at, 129. 
Southworth, Mrs. K. D. E. N., 285. 
Spain, quicksilver mines of, 111. 
Spanish colonization in America, 229. 
Sparks, Jared, works of, 283. 
Specie, amount of, 217. 
Specie circular, the, 202. 

Specular iron ore and mines, 21 ; localities of, 24. 
Speculum iiu-tal, composition of, 63. 
Spelter. See Zinc. 

Spikes, -wniught iron, machines for, 43. 
Spurzheiin, plirenology introduced by, 260. 
Squibb, Dr. H. K., jireparalion of blue mass by, 115. 
Stamping mills for (juartz-mining, 74. 

Stamps lor copper mi nine, 53; for gold-crushing, picture of, 68. 
Statesmen, American, 276. 
State Teachers' Associations, 398. 
States, new, effect of land speculation ution the incrense of, 

171. 
Steam, use of, In coal-oil making, 158; house-warming by, 

248 ; social Importance of, 260. 



Steamers, ocean, introduction of, 188. 

Stedman, E. C, 281. 

Steel, oualities and manufacture of, 48 ; American methods of 

making, 44. 
Steel engraving and engravers, 333. 
Stephens, Mrs. Ann S.. 285. 
Stereotyping, process of, 300. 
Stewart & i'o.. New York, the business of, 190. 
Stippling, process of, 334. 
Stirling Hill, N. J., zinc mine at, 97. 
Stirling's gas-regulator, 151. 
Stocks, origin of the trade in, 194; method and amount ot, 

195, 196. 
Stores in New .York, 190. 
Story, tloseph, works of, 276. 
Stoves, manufacture of, at Albany, 36; use and kinds of, 248; 

for cooking, 253. 
Stowe, Mrs. Harriet Beecher, works of, 285. 
Street, Alfred B., 281. 
Street railroads in New York, 190. 
Stuart, Gilbert, portrait painter, 313. 
Subscription books, publication and sale of, 267. 
Suffolk Bank system, 203. 
Sully, Thomas, career and paintings of, 321. 
Summit coal mine, open quarry, picture of, 138; accotint of^ 

143. 
Sunday press, the, of New York, 307. 
Superior, Lake, iron mines of. 29; copper mines of, history, 

extent, working, and production of the, 51-58; shipments 

of iron from, 57. 
Susquehanna, iron mines on the, 26. 
Sutter's mill, discovery of gold at, 71. 
Swansea, copper-smelting at, 58; zinc works at, 96. 
Sydney coal-mines, Cape Breton, 129. 
Sykesville, Md., iron and copper mine at, 28, 49. 

Table furniture, varieties of, 251. 

Tables, old and new styles of, 250. 

Tait, Arthur F., painter, 825. 

Tar Lake, Trinidad, 161. 

Tarcntum, Pa., petroleum wells at, 162. 

Taylor, Bayard, 281. 

Taylor, Orville J., 398. 

Teachers, tr.aining of, 897; associations of, 897 ; conventlona 
of, 393. 

Teachers' institutes, 899. 

Teaching, works on, 897. 

Telegraph, the, introduction and extension of, 188; use of, by 
newspapers, 303 ; principles of, and apparatus for, 808 et 
seq. ; lines of, 313 ; the Atlantic, history of, 314. 

Telegraphing, charges for, 314. 

Temperance reform, the, 260. 

Tennessee, iron mines and furnaces of, 28; copper mines of^ 
50; gold mines of, 70; zinc in, 97; banks in, 207. 

Territories, the, surveys and sales of land in, 169. 

Theologi.ans, colonial, 27i. 

Theological schools, 393 ; table of, 454. 

Thevenet, Dr., account of iridium gathering by, 110. 

Thomas Iron Company, description of the furnaces of, 84. 

Thompson, Launt, sculptor, 323. 

Ticknor, Elisha, 899. 

Tidioute Island Oil Company, 163. 

Tight-lacing. 2.53. 

Tin, alloys of, with copper, 63; sources and uses of, 119-20; 
alloys with, 120; sheet, preparation of, 120. 

Titusville, Pennsylvania, petroleum at, 162; operations at, 
163. 

Tomatoes, introduction of, 252. 

Torrey, Prof. John, analysis of zinc ores by, 98. 

Total abstinence societies, origin of, 260. 

Trade, progress of, between the East and West, 170; con- 
struction of lines of communication for, 171 ; course ot 
175; of the lakes, 178. 

Trade sales of books, 265. 

Training, mental and corporeal, 884. 

Travel, importance of facilities for, 260. 

Travelers' Insurance Com[).any of Hartford, 227., 

Trexler, R., anthracite stoves made by, 248. 

Trimming machine, book and paper, 270 (illustration), 272. 

Trinidad, petroleum and asphaltum in, 161. 

Trinity School, New York, origin of the, 347. 

Trouncing in scho(d, how performed, 390. 

Trowsers, introduction of, by the Duke of Wellington, 257. 

Troy, iron foun<lries of, 86. 

Truiubull, Colonel John, career and paintings of, 319. 

Tuomey, M.. on iron ore in South Carolina, 28. 

Tuscaror.a, I'a., colliery slope and breaker at, picture of^ oppo- 
site 139; account of, 142, 144. 

Type-founding, process of, 298; machine for. 298. 

Type-revolving press, the, construction and operation of, 
288 ; illustrations oi; 292-3, 



INDEX 



581 



Typo?, size? of, 298; jiropurtions of. in fonts, 299; cases for, 

and settins; of. 299 ; conper-facing of, 801. 
Type-Setting muchines, 299. 

Ulster lead mine, copper from the, 49. 

Ulster connty. N. Y., lia<l mines of, 82. 

Union Consolidated Slinin^ Company. Rfl, 51. 

United Slates, tlu',advanta!res of, lor iron manufacture, 19; 
coal-lields of, 124; Uible of gasworks in. 147; talde of 
coal nil works in. 15-1; total imports of, 192; iniinicm- 
tion into. 2'.0; eonip;u:itivc nuuiDer of readers In, 202. 

T'^nited States Uank. See Bank. 

United States Military .Academy, 460. 

United States Zinc Company, 106. 

Unive-s;il Life Insurance Company, 227. 

University of Pennsylvaniiv, origin of, 849. 

Usher, llezekiah and John, early booksellers of Boston, 263. 

Valld's lead mine, Missouri, 86. 

Vunderlyn, John, career and na'ntincs of, 320, 

Van Uyke, Dr. II. M., pdd-mming of, in (Jeorgia, 70. 

Vassar Female College, 4ii5. 

Venan<ro county. Pa., petroleum in, 162. 

Ventilation of buildings, 24S-9. 

Vermont, iron mines and furnaces of, 24; copper mines of, 
49; gold mines of, 04; chromium in, 118; manganese in, 
119 ; cotistilutional provision of, for education, 386, 

Verplanek, Guliun C, 283. 

Victoria, Queen, zinc statue of, 103. 

Vieille Montiigno zinc mines and works, 100. 

Vincent de Paul, instruction of idiots bv, 443. 

Virginia, early mining industrv in, 17 ; iron ores and furnaces 
of, 2S; copper mines of, 49 ; shipments of ores from, 60 ; 
gold mines of, 03, 64 ; le.id mines of, 83 ; bitumin(»iis coal- 
field of, 129; petroleum in, 167; banks in, 208; early 
schools in, 837; ccdonial legislation of, upon schools, 841 ; 
first general school law in, 342 ; account of an old field 
school in, 377. 

Virginia Institution for the Deaf and Dumb, 436. 

Vitreous copper ore, 48. 

Waldo & Jewett, portrait painters, 822. 

Walker, Parker .t Co.'s product of silver from lead, 91. 

War books, great sales of, 267. 

Ware, William, works of. 282. 

Warner, Miss Emily, woiks of, 2S.'5. 

Warwick or Jones' iron mine, tlie. 26. 

Washington, Houdon's sUitue of, 326; extract from, upon ed- 
ucation, 352. 

Washington C(dlc£re, Maryland, origin of, 348. 

Washiii^rton county. Mo., "iron-smelting in, 31. 

Wa^hiniton gol<l inine, Korth Candinti, 69, 84, 115. 

Washington press, the, 287 ; picture of, 289. 

Washington's Farewell Address, manuscript of, 301. 

Washoe silver mines, 11.'), 116. 

WashsUimis, movable and fi.xcd, 251. 

Waterbury, Conn., brass manufacture at, 62. 

Water-cure, introduction of the, 261. 

Water pus, manufacture r.nd introduction of, 152. 

Waterhouse, Dr., vaceine inoculation introduced by, 260. 

Water-works in cities, introduction of, 249. 

Watkinson, David, lihrary founded by, 427. 

Watson, John, portrait painter, 316. 

Waverley novels, elTeet of the, upon the book trade, 204. 

Waj'hinci, Fnincis, «orks of, 282. 

Wealth, what constitutes, 200. 

Webster, Daniel, s[)eeches of. 277 ; extract from, upon educa- 
tion in New England, .353. 

Webster, Nnah, account of schools and education in New 
EnL'land by, 345; observations of, upon a lilteral policy 
of education, .3.'>2 ; upon the early state of common schools 
(letter), ;35o ; u[>on errors in education, .S55-0. 

Webster's Klciuentary bpel ling-book and Dictionary, publi- 



cation and inlluence of. 2C3. 201 ; aigrcgate sale of, 267 ; 
Spellins IJook, specimens of, 416-19. 

Weir, Robert W,, painter, 823. 

Welhv, Mrs. Amelia B., 286. 

Welhind canal, construction of the, 179; and railway, effect 
of. upon the trade of Buffalo, Oswego, and Clevelanil. lit). 

Wellinston, Duke of, trowscrs, frock-coats, and boots intro- 
duced liy, 257-8. 

Wells, petroleum, the boring of, 164-5: pipes for, 166. 

Wells, .John, printins-press inventor, 287. 

West, the, coal tieldsdf, 124, 133; surveys and sales of land 
in, 169; early trade and settlement of, 170; eti'ects of 
speculation in, 172; canals in, 172; railroads in. 178; 
railroads, population, and corn crop of, 1850 and 1857, 174 
(table); importance of corn to, 175; use of agricultural 
machinery in, 175. 

West, Beniamin, career of, 817 ; chief pictures of, 318. 

West, William E.. paint, r, 820. 

West Point, Military Academy at, .395. 

Whalins business, decline of the, l.M. 

Wetherill, Samuel, manufacture of zinc by, 99, 104. 

White, Edwin. ])ainter, 32.^ 

Whitefield, George, Orphan House in Georgia founded by, 
350, 44,5. 

Wharton, Joseph, manufacture of zinc by, 99. 

Wheatley lead mine, Pennsylvania. N^. 

Wheaton, Henrv, work of. on international law, 276. 

Wheelock, Dr., first president of Dartmouth Colle<je, .345. 

White lead, m.anufacture and uses of, 94 ;:idu Iteration of, 95; 
works, table of, 96. 

Whittier, John (ireenle.af, career and works of, 281. 

Wiss, former use of. 257. 

Wiltiraham, Mass., Methodist Conference Seminary at, 4015. 

■Wilbur, Dr. H. B., 44.3. 

Wilkesl^arre, open coal-mines nt, picture, opposite 137; ac- 
count of, 144, 

Willard, Mrs. Emma.works of, 284; the female seminary of, 405. 

William and Mary CoUepe, foundation of, 342. 

Williams, Mr., painter, 317. 

Willis. N. P.. career and works of, 2S0. 

Will>oirs "School nnd >'amily PLcaders," specimens of, 420-21. 

Windham County 'i'eachers" Convention, 898. 

Wmilows, weights and catches for. 247. 

Winthrop, Governor, mining grant to, 17. 

Winthrop, John, mineral specimens c<dlected by, IS. 

Wire, iron, manufacture and uses of, 41 ; hrass, 62. 

Wirt, W' illiam, works of. 276. 

Wisconsin, iron mines and furnaces of, 30; lead mines of, S4; 
banks in, 200. 

Wood, manufacture of pas from, 152; for engraving, 3-32. 

Wood's clirome mine, 118. 

Woodworth, William, planing machine introduced by, 247. 

Worcester, Mass., wire made at, 41. 

Writers, American, 274; lemale, list of, 285. 

Wrought iron, manufacture of, 86; plans lor the direct pno- 
duction of. 37. 

Wyoming region, the coal produced in, 1829-1860, 134. 

Wythe lead uiine, Virginia, 63. 

Yale Collese, foundation of, 844; Scientific School of, 400. 

Yankee curiosit.v, useful lesults of, 262. 

" Y.ankce Notions." the, 807. 

Yellow metiil, Muntz's, 01. 

Young, James, manufacture of coal oil by, 154. 

Zaffre, ore of cobalt, 117. 

Zinc, use of, in coating iron, 40; in brass-making, 62; ores of, 
96; mines of, 97; metallurgical treatn)ent of, 99; impu- 
rities of, 99-100; European manulacture of, 101; total 
production an<l consumption of, 102 ; uses of, 103; manu- 
facture of white oxiiie of, U'3. 

Zinc paint, manufacture <if. 103; American process of mak- 
ing, 104-5 ; cost of, 100 ; importance of, 106, 



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No. 1. 
From A. Jackson, D. D., President Ilobart College, Oeneya. 
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From C. Nctt, D. D., PresiiU-nt of the Tndiana State Uni- 
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I have examined your recently published work 
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From President of Girard College, Philadelphia, Pa. 
Dfor Sir, — I have been interested and instructed 
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No. 5. 
From the President of Genesee College. 
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With as much care as my time would allow, I 
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No. 6. 



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Dear Sir, — The work on the " Dei'elopment of the 
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information of interest, more or less, to all, and 
not easily accessible, except to varied labor and 
research. 

The idea, too, of illustrating national progress, 
not by war, nor annexation, nor diplomatic legerde- 
main, but l>y the advance in the institutions of 
learning, in useful inventions, in the growth ol 
manufiictures, agriculture, and commerce, in all the 
arts of peace, in morals and civilization, in the 
inner life, so to speak, of the people themselves, 
seems to me both original and founded in the true 
notion of progress. 

Your obedient servant, 

Ch. King. 
Pres. of Columbia College. 

Mb. Stebbins. 



No. 10. 
From the President of Tufts College. 
January 27, 
Mr. Stebbins : Dear Sir, — I was led to expect 
much from the title of your work, and resolve<l to 
give it a careful examination. I have been richly 
repaid for the time thus spent, in the great pleas 
ure and profit I have derived from its perusal. 
Heartily thanking you for this generous contribu- 
tion to generous knowledge, I trust you may r -ap a 
rich reward for your efforts. 

JouN P. Marshall. 



No. 11. 

From the President of Dartmouth College. 
January 20, 
L. Stebbins, Esq. : Dear Sir, — I received some 
days ago your very handsome work, but have found 
leisure only within a day or two to examine its 
contents. Those persons who have been longest 
on the stage can best appreciate the amazing con- 
trasts in the state of the country which you 



describe, but one who, like myself, can recognize 
the history of half the perioti, can testify to the 
faithfulness and fullness of your exhibition of the 
growth and power of this great country. 
Very respectfully yours, 

O. P. UUUBABD. 



No. 12. 
From the President of Williams' College. 
Dear Sir, — I have no hesitation in saying that 
the work proposed to be done has been well done. 
For those wiio wish a book of the kind, yours can- 
not fail to be the book. 

llespcctfully yours, 

Makk Hopkins. 
Mr. L. Stebbins. 



No. 13. 
From Pres. Woolsit, Yale College, New Haven, Conn. 

Yale College, Nov. 1.5, 
Mr. L. Stebbins: Dear Sir,— Yonr book is a 
good and useful one, but it is not my practice to 
recommend books. 

Your obedient servant, 

T. D. Woolset. 



No. 14. 



College of New Jersey, ) 
Princeton, Jan. 28, ) 

Dear Sir : — Your work I rcjrard as a valuable 
publication, richly meriting the attention of the 
general reader, as well as the more careful examin- 
ation of the student interested in observing the 
advancement of our country in the useful arts and 
learning. Very respectfully yours, 

JouN McLean. 
L. Stebbins, Esq. 



No. 1.5. 
From Rev. Dr. Smith, Lane Theological Seminary, Ohio. 
Mi«. L. Stebbins : My Dear Sir, — 1 Imve run 
my eyes with great interest over your beautiful 
work. It contains, in a condensed yet attractive 
form, a mass of information touching the progress 
and present condition of our country. It is, more- 
over, information, of which every man, at some 
lime, feels the need ; and it would be a grand con- 
tribution Ixjth to the intelligeiue and i)atriotism of 
our whole populaticm, if you could succeed in 
placing a copy of it in every family of the land. I 
shall place your book on my table for constant ref- 
erence. 

Wishing you all success in your enterprise, 
I am very truly yours, 
Henry Smith, 
Prof. Ch., Hist, and Sac. Khetoric. 



No. 16. 
From Professor Fowier, of Amherst rollepe, Editor of the 
Vnivorsity Edition of Webster's Uictiouary, .^enes of Clas- 
sical Books, etc. 

The work which you placed in my hands I have 
taken time to examine, in order that I might learn 
its intrinsic value. I find that the subjects selected 
are such, and the manner of treatment such, as to 
supply a felt want in the public mind, winch, in its 
own progress, was demanding higher and better 



584 



COMMENDATIONS. 



help thiin it enjoyed before the publication of your 
work. This miy^ln be inferred from the bare men- 
tion of the subjeets and the authors. These sub- 
jects are treated by these writers with that correct- 
ness of the statement of the general principles, and 
with that fulness of detail which make the work 
just what it oufiht to be as a guide to the people. 
Every you7ig man who wishes to elevate his mind 
by self-culture, ought to read this work carefully, 
Yours respectfully, 

William C. Fowler. 



No. 17. 

Prom Professor B. Sillim.vn, Yale College, New Haven Ct. 
I have carefully looked through your rich and 
faithful work, observing the copious tables of con 
tents, glancing at every page of the work, and at 
all the numerous illustrations, with occasional 
reading of ])aragraphs. A more thorough examin 
atiou it has not been hitherto in my power to make ; 
but even this general survey has left on my mind 
the deciiled conviction that you have performed an 
important service to your country in thus mapping 
out and condensing and explaining the wonderful 
progress made in this country, in all the most impor- 
tant arts of life. B Sillman. 



No. 18. 
From the Secretary of Board of Trade, Philadelphia. 
L. Stkbiuns, P^SQ. : Dear Sir, — I examined with 
interest the volume published by you, and Ibund it 
particularly valuable. The design struck me very 
favorably, and the execution of the several parts 
could not have been intrusted to more competent 
hands. The last one hundred years of the history of 
the United States has been one of unexampled prog- 
ress, and it is now more thiin ever important to 
bring in review before the )X!ople of every section 
the leading f icts of this marvelous progress. 
Very respectfully yours, 

LORIN Blodget 



contains on the wide range of subjects treated of 
must make it exceedingly valuable as a standard 
book of reference. The names of the writers of 
the different articles afford a sufficient guaranty 
that the facts and statements may be relied on as 
correct. I consider the work a very important 
accession to this department of literature, and have 
no doubt that it will find its way into the library of 
every private gentleman and every public institu- 
tion. Very truly j'ours, 

Wm. W. Turner. 



No. 21. 



From John D. Philbrick, Superintendent Common Schools, 
Massachusetts. 

I have examined your work with great satisfac- 
tion. I consider it a work of great value, and it is 
one which 1 should be very unwilling to spare from 
my library. It is not only such a book as the liter- 
ary or professional man would like to possess, but 
it is a book for every household, and for every 
school library. Very truly yours, 

John D. Philbrick. 



No. 19. 

From the Secretary of the Board of Trade, Boston. 

My D<nr Sir, — I have found time to acquaint 
myself with the general topics and ol)jects of thi 
work, and do not hesitate to declare that 1 have not 
read more interesting pages for years. Indeed, tht 
best informed among us, cannot, as it seems tome, 
fail to tind much that is nc>v, while to the young 
and to those who lack the means of research, so 
authentic and well-digested account of our conn- 
try's " Proirross," will be of immense service. Wc 
all boast of our wonderful march in commerce, in 
manufactures, in mechanics, and in the arts ; and 
here we have it, step by step, in " facts and figures," 
and in brief and pithy narrative. 

With all mv heart I hope that the sale will be 
extensive, and that you mav be well rewarded for 
your outlay of time and capital. 

Very truly, your friend, 

LoRKNzo Sabine. 

L. Stebbins, Esq., Hartford, Conn. 

No. 20. 

From Wm. W. TnaNfm, Principal of the American Asylum 

for Deaf and Dumb, Hartford, Coan. 

I have examin'-d your new national work on the 

" United States," and find that the information it 



No. 22. 
From the Secretary of Board of Education. 
Boston, Mass., Sept. 6, 
Dear Sir, — I beg leave to thank you for your 
noble work. 

After such an examination as I have been able to 
give, I do not hesitate to pronounce it a work of 
unusual interest and value. 

As a depository of facts illustrative of the prog- 
ress of our country in the departments of industry, 
it is invaluable. 

Its wide circulation, at this eventful period, can- 
not fail to arouse and deepen that patriotic love of 
our institutions which is the pressing demand of 
the hour. Respectfully yours, 

J. White. 
L. Stebbins, Esq. 



No. 23. 



From S. S. Randall, City Superintendent Public Schools, 
New York. 

Mr. L. Stebbins : Dear Sir, — The great press 
ofotiiiial engagements has hitherto prevented my 
acknowledgment of the receipt of the very beauti- 
ful and interesting work published by you. I have 
not had time to peruse them thoroughly, but take 
i,aeat pleasure in stating that, so far as I have 
looked into them, the plan and general execution 
of the work seem to me to be admirable, and well 
adapted to the wants, as well of the rising genera- 
tion, as of our fellow-citizens generally. 1 cheer- 
fully recommend it to the favorable regard of school 
officers, parents, teachers, and others, as a very val- 
uable compend of scientific and historical knowl- 
edge, and as a work well worthy of a place in every 
school or private library. 



No. 24. 
From R. Q.Dana, Mercantile Agency, New York. 
From a cursory glance at its contents I feel war- 
ranted in saying it possesses information of much 
value and usefulness to all classes. 

Very respectfully, R. G. Dana. 



COMMENDATIONS. 



585 



No. 25. 
From B. .T. Tossing, the Historian. 

Sir, — T have cxaniiiR-d, witli great satisfaction, 
your work. It is a work of inostiinable value to 
those who desire to know, in minute detail, some- 
t\ui\ff more of the history of the country than tlie 
events of its political and industrial lil'e as exhib- 
ited in the politician's manual, ar.d the hold state- 
ments of the census ; especially at this time, when 
the civilized world is eaj^crly askinfj^ what we are 
and what we have been, that the old {governments 
may attcniiit to solve the more important question, 
to them, what we will be. Your work, in fiict and 
logical pro[)liecy, furnishes an answer of which any 
people may be justly proud. Surely, no nation of 
the earth has ever experienced such bounding 
progress as this. No American can peruse your 
pages without feeling grateful for the privilege of 
being an American citizen. 

I will use a very trite phrase and say, with all 
sincerity, I wish your work could go " into every 
family in our land," to increase their knowlege and 
to strengthen their patriotism. 

Yours respectfully, 

Benson J. Lossing. 



No. 26. 
Office of Superintendent of Public Schools, Chicago. 
The work which you have prepared with so much 
care and labor, presenting the progress of our 
country, is peculiarly adapted to gratify and instruct 
all classes of citizens. No work could be offered to 
the public at the present time more worthy of a 
place in family libraries, and school libraries, than 
the one which you now present. 

Yours truly, W. H. Wells, 

Sup. of Public Schools. 



No. 27. 

From Isaac Ferris, D. D., Chancellor of the University in 

New York. 

I have looked into the work and am happy to 

unite with the worthy men who have examined it, 

in commending it to my friends. 

Nkw York. Isaac Febris. 



No. 28. 
From J. M. Mathews, D. D., Ex-Chancellor of the Univer- 
sity in New York. 
The object of the work is highly commendable ; 
and, so far as I have been able to examine it, has 
been executed with ability and fidelity. I freely 
commend it to public patronage. 

New York. J. M. Mathews. 



No. 29. 
From Prof. E. W. Hosforr, of Cambridge University. 
It is a work of very great value for popular ref- 
erence. The articles having been prepared by 
writers who have made specialties of the subjects 
upon which they have written, are, as a consequence, 
eminently attractive. I find them an unfailing 
source of valuable information and important sug- 
gestion. 



No. 30. 
From the New York Times. 
If at all inclined to doubt tliat a great deal of 
useful information may be bound up in a compara- 
tively small compass by a judicious compiler, in 
the very handsome work before us, we should find 
sufficient logic to make us devout believers. The 
writers have ranged through the wild fields of 



agriculture, commerce, and trade ; very little that 
develops the material prosperity of a country, and 
marks its growth, has esca])ed their industrious 
research. Undoubtedly, minute criticism might 
detect slight errors, but in a work of so compre- 
hensive a character, strict accuracy would seem 
almost unattainable. The statistics given are full 
and clearly arranged ; the groui)ing of the subjects, 
and the evident method whicli the authors have 
observed in the accomplishment of their not incon- 
siderable task, arc worthy of all praise. The work 
is one which we particularly need, as it is a 
lamentable fact that few peo])le are so deficient in 
general knowledge of facts relative to growth and 
development of their native country, as ours. The 
Englishman generally has an arsenal of statistics 
at his fingers' ends ; "he can tell you when the first 
shaft was sunk in the first mine; when the first 
loom was erected in Manchester. The panoplv of 
facts in which he is arrayed makes him rather a 
ponderous and far from sjjrightly companion, at 
times ; but then he always jiroves formidable as an 
adversary. Germans, too, have nearly everything 
by rote that relates to their own country. 



No. 31. 



From the New Englander, New Ilaven, Conn. 
In this very large octavo work there is presented 
in a compact and easily accessible form an amount 
of valuable information with regard to the progress 
which the people of the United States have made 
in all the various channels of industry since the 
days when they were British colonists, which is not 
to be found in any other single work with which 
we are acquainted. E.ach one of these subjects 
is amply illustrated with engravings. The differ- 
ent chapters have been prepared by well-known 
literary men who have each made the subjects 
about which they have written the study of years. 
We have examined the work repeatedly and with 
much care during the past three months, and each 
time have been impressed anew with its value. 
There is not an intelligent family in the nation who 
would not be interested and instructed by it, and 
find it a most convenient book of reference with 
regard to everything pertaining to the industrial 
interests of the country. 



No. 32. 
From the Boston Transcript. 
This work is the result of much careful research, 
exercised by many minds on a variety of import- 
ant subjects. They show the industrial and educa- 
tional steps by which the people of the United 
States have risen from their colonial condition to 
to their present position among the nations of the 
world. They give, in a historical form, the prog- 
ress of the country in agriculture, comm- ree, 
trade, banking, manufactures, machinery, modes 
of travel and transportation, and the work is 
intended to be sold by subscription, and will 
doubtless have a large circulation. It ought to be 
in every house in the land. It is more important 
than ordinary histories of the country, as it exhib- 
its all the triumphs of the practical mind and 
energy of the nation, in everv department of sci- 
ence, art, and benevolence. It is a storehouse of 
important and stimulating facts, and its interest 
can hardly be exhausted by the most persistent 
reader. 



TABLKS OF POPULATION. 



TABLE OF THE POPULATION, 

VALUATION OF REAl AND PERSONAL ESTATE, CAPITAL INVESTED IN MANUFACTURES, TRADE, AND COMMERCE IN EACH OP THB 

STATES OF THE UNION. 

U^^M., manufacturing capital : T., capital employed in trade; C, capital employed in commerce by land and sea. 
The Taluations are generally actual, and not assessment valuation. If not correct, they are from the best data and au- 
thority available 



Maine 

New Hampshire. . . . 

A'ermont 

Massachusetts 

KUode Island 

Connecticut 

I^ew York 

New Jersey 

Pennsylvania 

Delawa e 

Mar', la id 

Virginia 

"VVest > irginia 

North Carolina 

South Carolina 

Geof{j:ia 

I'lorida 

Alabama 

Mississippi 

Louisiana 

Texa^ 

Arkansas 

Tennessee 

Kentucky 

Ohio 

Indiana 

Illinois 

Missouri 

Kansas 

Nebraska 

Iowa 

JIirhis!:aa 

Wisconsin 

Minne.sota 

Neva'la 

California 

Oregon 

District of Columbia 
Territories 



Population by 
census of 
1870. 



620,423 
317,710 
3:30,.'>S2 
,457,351 
217,358 
637,88o 
,730,846 
903,<i44 
,511,513 
175,015 
790,095 
,211,442 
441,943 
,016,954 
"05,789 
,174 833 
189.995 
996,175 
843,'i5G 
734.420 
795..50'l 
485,103 
,258,326 
,323,264 
,675,468 
,66S,l!59 
,567,036 
,725,6.58 
379,497 
116,SS>< 
,181,359 
,184,6.53 
,055, .501 
424,543 

44,686 
656,208 

90,878 
131,706 
298,3^7 



38,881,231 



Valuation of real 
estate in 1S70. 



$219,666,504 
160 ,.315, 680 
138,627,143 

1,03S,(»83,415 
233,758,0110 
31-.i,574 408 

2.532,720;907 
573,0110,000 

1,046,732,062 

47,385,614 

398,891,449 

885,000,000 

98,780,<'00 

293,837,993 

358,785,191 

386,129.:31 

16,329,108 

327,500,000 

l)7,OiX),000 

317,612,-583 

298,163,281 

86,297,123 

276,163,137 

329,218,742 

1,607,418,203 
937,201,283 

1,346,587.734 
805,893.185 
69,125,000 
24,160,000 
322,.56l,061 
387,246,129 

3';o,ooo,oon 

171,1.55.000 
19,380,000 

217.855,933 
29,830,117 
83,127,841 
79,184,821 



Valuation of per- 
sonal estate in 
1870. 



Capital invested in manufac- 
tures, trade, or commerce, in 
IbTO. 



$169,037 
128,711 

85,;44 

803,085 

55,483 

1&5,380 

2,434 ,2 ;o 

278,000 

348,891 

20,185 

327,937 

85,000 

41,000 

188,931 

219,681 

267,82;J 

15,44' 

12;j,500 

49,-380, 

294,861 

159,328 

127,261 

168,237 

271.8154 

9.59762 

367,130 

342,40^ 

497,48 

31,285 

30,895 

171971 

183,284 

13H,(Hln 

29,3S7 

14,2S7 

128,72.^ 

19,187 

49,287 

62,829: 



,423 M, 
,U3.M, 

,827!M, 
,9.-?8tM, 
713 M. 



,247 C, 



.M, 

C & M, 

M, 

C & M, 

.M, 

M & C, 

.M & T, 

.M, 

M & T, 
M & T, 
M & C, 
M & C, 
M & T. 



,ik.hj'm, 

0(K»'M, 



M & T, 
M & T, 
M & C, 
T, 

''» 
^. 

C &M, 

1'. 

>I. 

M & C, 

& M, 



,471 
,323 
,605 
,613 



C &M, 

M, 

M & T. 

M. 



$48,000,000 

53,;J0O,O00 

37,823,000 

250,0(X),000 

45,000,000 

166.800,000 

3,2iX),000,000 

135,000,000 

1,320,000,000 

16,550 ,0"0 

117,500,000 

86,230,000 

28,000,000 

15.000 000 

35,-500,000 

61,325,000 

13,00 ',000 

45,000,000 

21,300,000 

48.000,000 

27,480,000 

13,287,0 

79,500.000 

250,000,000 

2,300,000,000 

1,400,000,000 

2,0<X»,000,000 

1,729,1 '00 ,0:»0 

114,0(X),U00 

6, 60" ,000 

325,000,000 

387,612,000 

32,000,00) 

14,831,000 

3,925,0 lO 

150 > 00,000 

11,35>I,0J0 

19,270,000 

21,332,000 



TABLE OP PRINCIPAL CITIES OF THE UNITED STATES, 

SHOWTOO POPULATION IN 1850, 1800, AND 1870, CAPITAL INVESTED IN MANUFACTURES, AND AMOUNT OP ANNUAL PRODUCT IK 

OR NEAR 1870. 



Portland 

Bangor 

Lewiston . . . . 
Biddeford . . . . 

Augusta 

Blauchester . , 

Nashua 

Portsmouth.. 

Concord 

Dover 

Burlington... 

Boston 

Lowell 

Worcester . . . 

Salem 

Cambridge ... 
New Bedford. 
Fall River . . . 
Springfield... 
Charlestown . 
Newbury port 
Taunton . . . . 

lynn 

Gloucester. . . 



Maine. 



Population 
in ISoU. 



20,815 
14,432 

3, -584 
6,095 
8,225 
13,932 
6,820 
9,738 
8,576 
8,196 
6,110 
136,881 
3-'5.3S3 
1,'.049 
20.21)4 
15,215 
16,4W 
11,524 
11,766 
17,216 
9,-572 
10,441 
14,2-)7 
7.786 



Population 
iu 1860. 



26,.341 
16,407 



7,609 
20,109 
10,065 

9,33. 
10,896 

8.-302 

7,713 
177,812 
36,82 
24,960 
22,252 
26,060 
22,-300 
14.026 
15,199 
25,0i-,3 
13.401 
15.37(; 
19.083 
1I.904 



Population 
iu 1870. 



30,8 
18,296 
13,600 
10,285 

7,811 
23,-535 
10,543 

9,305 
12,241 

9,291 
14,-387 
250,52-. 
40,928 
41, lO.- 
24. li; 
3;t,634 
21,32 
28,78 ; 
28.701 
2^.323 
13,.-.9. 
1^,8'J! 
2.'^ .233 
15.3 <9 



Capital invest- 
ed in manu- 
factures in or 
near 1870. 



$",500,000 

5,800.0(X) 

6,3'0,o0u 

3,000,000 

5,000.01 Kl 

9,840 ,00'» 

6,1hO.'K)0 

1,500,000 

6,700.000 

3, 200 ,.(00 

1,725 000 

42,0<Xt,0(K) 

30,000,000 

8,800,0110 

3,.-«),000 

5,1 KX) .000 

24,fKX)'>00 

13,400,000 

8,3.iO,"(X> 

7,100.000 

2,7.50.000 

8,9.50,000 

10,2n0,n00 

1,750,000 



Annual pro 
duct. 



$13,.3'V).000 
12,(Ji.Mj.(X)0 
11, ,500 ,000 

7.000 (K)0 
10..5<H),000 
19,970,0<X) 
12,.3.50,0'K) 

3._00,i'(K) 
10.500,000 

5,«oO,0'-0 

4,^89,(fK) 
105.0o0,fl00 
89.000,(K'0 
2li,IMX),OO0 

9,875,000 
14,000,(HiO 
37,000.000 
29,.50O,O0O 
17 284,000 
15,2.50,(»O0 

6.000,(M)0 
10.675,0<i0 
15,1S7,3.50 

4,225,000 



TABLKS OF POPULATION". 



tai;li: 07 p:;i:;cipal cities o? iiia united states.— continued. 



Holyoke 

Lawrtnoe 

)'roTidence 

Newport 

Kew Ha en 

Hirtford 

UriJsrport 

NorwlcU 

MiJdletown .... 
New London . . . 

Watorbury 

Moriden 

New York 

Krooklyn 

LufTalo' 

Albany 

Roche.'^ter 

Syracu.se 

Troy 

Yonkers 

Cswej^o 

lluJ.son 

Utica . 

Binghamton . . . . 

Morrisaiiia 

Poughkeepsie .. . 

Cohoes 

T^ewliurgh 

Elmira 

Lookport 

Sclienectiidy. . . . 

Auburn 

Ogdensburg 

Newark 

Jersey City 

l^lizabeth 

I'atersoa 

IIoboKen 

Jlahway 

Trenton 

New Ifrunsvfick., 

Camden 

llud.snn City 

Philadelphia . . . 

Pitt.-iburgh 

Alleghany City. , 

Scnmton 

Heading 

Ilarri.-iburg 

Erie 

LaDca.ster 

Wilmington 

Baltimore 

Cumberland ... 

Frederick 

Va.shington . .. , 

Georgetown 

Kienmond 

Alexandria 

>orfolk 

I'ortsmou'h . . . . 

Petersburg 

Lynchburg 

Wheeling 

A^'ilmington.. . . 

B'.leigh 

^ew iserne 

Charleston 

Columbia 

Savannah 

Atbinta 

AugUista 

Kev Vest 

Mobile 

Won tgomery . . . 

Natchez 

Vick.shurg 

New Orleans. . . 

Galveston 

Little Kock 

Memphis 

Kasbviile 

Cni Kviile 



State. 


Topulatiou 
iu XHoO. 


Popnlation 
iu I60O. 


Population 
in 1870. 


Japital invest- 
ed in manu- 
factures in or 
near 18^0. 


Annual pro- 
duct. 


Mass. 


3,245 




11,000 


$7,186,000 


S13,2C7,0DO 


" 


8.28^ 




28,921 


20,000.000 


3.3,000.000 


K. I 


41,513 


50,666 


68.906 


11,837,648 


83,690,994 


•' 


9,533 


10,508 


12,5il 


1,500,000 


3,275,000 


Conn. 


20,.3-;5 


39,237 


60,840 


12,n5,000 


S-,CrX>,000 


" 


13.555 


29,154 


3r,iso 


13,500,000 


81, -'00 ,000 


« 


7,5G0 


13,.055 


1:1, 876 


5,125.000 


1,, 500 ,000 


«' 


10,235 


14,048 


13,(i53 


7,675,000 


18.250,000 


" 


4,211 




11,143 


1,776,0(0 


4,000,000 


" 


8,991 


10,115 


9.576 


2,50O,OC0 


4,865.000 


" 


5,137 




10 826 


8 125,000 


19,385,000 


11 


3,559 




10,521 


2,734,000 


8,500,000 


N. Y. 


515,.547 


805,651 


942,310 


17i'.525,0(X) 


486.1-5,000 


II 


9;,838 


233, 6G1 


8'J3.300 


65 ,.500 ,000 


140,21:5,000 


•1 


42,231 


81,129 


117,716 


27,9;5,000 


62,8.35,000 


«• 


60,7G3 


62,337 


€9,422 


18,250,000 


41.375,000 


ti 


36,403 


48,204 


62,355 


15,000,000 


28,000 000 


•I 


22,271 


2'*,119 


43,058 


ii,k;],5oo 


29,627,000 


II 


28,785 


39,232 


46,471 


9,000.000 


20,000.000 


II 


4,130 


11,848 


18,318 


1,250,000 


3,100,000 


•I 


12,23-i 


16,817 


20,910 


6,108,000 


13,187,000 


II 


6,283 


9,288 


14,136 


1,125,000 


2,'50,000 


11 


17,535 


22,.529 


28,804 


6,2-6,000 


14,831,000 


" 


6,000 


8,325 


12,862 


2,725,0f.0 


5,81*5,000 


II 




9,245 


19,637 


3,184,000 


7,190,000 


II 


13,944 


11,726 


20,080 


4,932,000 


10,287,000 


11 


4.C2D 


7,620 


15.357 


6,550,000 


11,230,000 


II 


11,415 


15,196 


17,014 


3,725,000 


7,810,fXK) 


II 


8,138 


8,882 


15,863 


6,817,000 


14,271,000 


11 


10,327 


13,033 


13,458 


2,10^,000 


6,125,000 


II 


8,921 


9,579 


11,026 


1,125,000 


2,789,000 


" 


9,548 


10,986 


17,225 


6,075,000 


12,173,000 


II 


6,500 


7,409 


10,076 


3,187,500 


7,785,000 


N. J. 


38,894 


71,914 


105,078 


25, .500.000 


53,628,000 


■' 


6,856 


29,226 


82,102 


18,650,000 


35,750,000 


II 


6,583 


10,000 


20,S83 


1,725,000 


2,850,000 


II 


11,334 


19,588 


33,512 


17,150,000 


33 ,525 ,('00 


" 


2,668 


9,662 


20,284 


3,3')0,000 


8,200,000 


11 


8,306 


4,785 


6,016 


650.000 


1,0-30.000 


II 


6,431 


17,228 


22,115 


7,180,000 


15.125.000 


11 


10,019 


12,1,30 


15,059 


2.7^6,000 


6,876,000 


II 


9,479 


11,207 


20,045 


6,650,000 


12,176.0(10 


II 






18,000 


460,000 


1,750,000 


Pa. 


340,045 


562 ,.529 


674,022 


178.000,000 
69,250,000 


495,000,000 


" 


46,601 


49,217 


80,235 


141,600,000 


'I 


21,261 


28,702 


53,181 


21.300,000 


54,380,000 


II 




9,223 


85,093 


2,<tl7,(X10 


6,285,0(;0 


•1 


15,743 


23,161 


33,932 


9,7.56,000 


38,124,000 


•1 


7,831 


13,405 


23,10£ 


6,125,000 


13,250,000 


<i 


5,85S 


9,41£ 


20,.50C 


1,-500,000 


4,600,(100 


11 


12,339 


17,603 


20,23? 


3,900.000 


9,728,000 


Del. 


13,979 


25,508 


30,841 


11,-500,000 


18,000.000 


Md. 


169,054 


212,41s 


267,354 


27,480,000 


79,139.000 


" 


6,073 




11,50( 


400,000 


i/MfX'O 


'1 


6,028 


8,143 


10,18( 


875 ,00c 


2,100,000 


D. C. 


40,001 


61,122 


109 ,29^^ 


3,1.50,00C 


10,287.000 


II 


8,380 


8,733 


12,412 


1,(K)0,OOC 


2,650 ,0(.iO 


Va. 


27,570 


87,910 


51,03J 


2,100,00c 


6,l.<i3,<XiO 


11 


8,734 


12,055 


13,57( 


3,125,000 


8,749,500 


•1 


14,326 


15,011 


19,256 


2,087 ,50C 


6,964,:; 50 


•' 


8,122 


9,502 


12,6,8 


l,4i;9.350 


3,748,140 


II 


14, OK 


18,206 


14,12J 


500,00c 


1,150.<'10 


" 


8,071 


6,853 


7,31f 


350,00c 


975,500 


W. Va. 


11,435 


14,083 


19,282 


6,1,50,280 


14,297,3-10 


N. C. 


7,264 


9,r52 


13,405 


975,00c 


2,500,000 




4,51S 


4,78( 


10,146 


400 ,00c 


1,100.0(JO 


II 


4,681 


5,432 


4,990 


250 ,00c 


725,000 


S. C. 


42,985 


40,-522 


48,956 


1,850 ,00c 


8,9,50,000 


" 


6,06C 


8,05J 


10,13S 


1,015,25C 


2,416,980 


Ga. 


15,312 


22,292 


20,23; 


500 ,00c 


1,100,000 




2,572 


9,.55^ 


16,98S 


1,325,00( 


3,145,000 




11,75; 


12,49; 


14,197 


575,00( 


) 1,497,-500 


Fla. 


1,94; 


2,832 


6,51( 


650,00( 


) l,328,.5fO 


Ala. 


20,515 


29,2.58 


32,08^ 


3,618,00( 


) 9,145,320 




4,935 


8,84J 


13,005 


600,00( 


) 3,000,000 


Miss. 


4,43' 


6,612 


9,12« 


275,00( 


) 7S5,.300 




3,fi7S 


4,59 


8,933 


729.00( 


) 1,-541870 


La. 


116,37c 


168,67£ 


191,322 


19,7ro,CO( 


) C3,5-30,000 


Texas. 


4,17' 


7,30' 


13,81g 


8.-0,00( 


) 2,100,000 


Ark. 


2,16' 


3,72' 


13,38C 


300,00( 


) 850,000 


Tenn. 


8,8K 


) 22,02; 


40,22f 


l,a39,00f 


) 9,741,500 


II 


10,47 


5 16,98* 
) 6,00( 


25 875 


l,171,4-)( 


1 2,7 3,-''21 


" 


3,69( 


) o.cxx 


600,00 


) '.iSO,(.(jO 



TABLES OF TOrrLATIOK. 



3LE or PRINCIPAL CITIES OF THE CXITED STATES— Contejuei.. 



Kt. 



Mo. 



Kan. 



Neb. 
Iowa 



Looisrille 

C'jTington 

L^iia^toii. 

St. LoQiJ 

Kiiisas City 

St ^'osepl 

Hinnibai 

Leavenworth 

Topesa 

Oaiatia 

Sareaport 

Dabnque 

Dea Moines 

Keokai 

ilu=citiae 

Conn-il BluSs 

BurlingVHi 

Ctaiea^ 

Peoria 

QnincT 

Springfield 

Alton 

Gaiena. 

Pekin 

Eoc i Island.. . . .-. 

Cairo 

Indianapolis 

Evaa.-Tilie 

Terre Haute 

Fort ^Vavne 

»w Albany 

Vifx-veujc 

M3/ii*on 

Kiciunond . 

I»gin«port 

Cincinnad 

Cleveland 

TgJwIo 

ColumbtM 

l>ajton 

Sanlm^T 

Spria?5eld 

Hamilton • • . . . 

Toitemouth 

SteubenT^lJe 

ZiDesriJe 

Akron 

Detrtrit 

Gn.ai Rapids 

Jark<on 

Kalamu/'fO 

Za.=! Saginaw 

.4 'Irian 

>Iii 'lakie 

3Iadi*on 

O^oltosa 

Snperior City 

Foal da Lac '• 

Green Bar 

Badne 

Janes vi lie 

Et^ Paul 

^ inona 

St. .Anthony 

Minneapolis 

Den • >:r 

Cheyenne Wyoming. 

Salt LaicfCity i Ctoh. 



.; 



m. 



Ind. 



Ohio. 



IGch. 



Wis. 



Minn. 



CoL 



Ner. 



Cal. 



Oregou. 



Carson City 
Vir^nia ''ity., 
San f ranriico 
Sacramento .. 

St/^kton 

.klani 

Portland 

Steilaroom iWaeh. T. 

Olympia I " 

Sa'ntaKe \ew Mei. 

Tnoon .\rizfna T. 

Boise City Idaho. 

Helena Montana. 

Aireinia City " 

Yanrkton. I>akota. 



Popula^on 
in lso>j. 


Population 
in Isoy. 


Population 
in 1»70. 


Capital invest- 
ed in macu 
Secures in cr 
near 1S70: 


Annual pro- 
duct. 


43.1»1 


68.033 


100.7.54 


§13,313,000 


§+3,091.745 


9.40.3 


16.471 


24..5<i5 


iSmJjf) 


lu 825.&-J0 


9,130 


9,.521 


10.121 


6iV> <"« ill 


1.725.(=00 


77,8dO 


1»,773 


812.963 


48.357 150 


10^.513 650 


600 


4.418 


32^362 


3.174,125 


8125.450 


BflOO 


8*32 


19 692 


1,675.325 


4.075,425 


2,020 


e^A 


lo.l2<3 


1,000.000 


2..3:>3.«0 




7,4iS 


17.849 


1,800.000 


3.270.1X0 




759 


5.790 


400,000 


900,000 




1.S83 
11.267 


16.083 
20.042 


' i.abi:i,6oo 




1.&18 


s'dfJTj.m 


3,10S 


IS.COJ 


18.<:<84 


2.425.0IX) 


3,".fri,000 


986 


3.9:5 


12-379 


1,470.000 


3.100.000 


2.478 


8.135 


12,754 


925.000 


2.084,000 


2..S40 


6^324 


i:i.l78 


8i0,000 


1,975,000 


2,"X)0 


2,011 


10.974 


1.125,000 


2,485.000 


4,082 


6.703 


12,034 


l.<j.30,000 


2,355,420 


29.963 


109 JKO 


298,983 


60,000,000 


175,MiO.0'JO 


5,095 


14,045 


25,787 


4.105,000 


11,1S6,.325 


6,902 


13,632 


24,053 


&072,.500 


8.740,200 


11,766 


15.199 


■ 17,3© 


1,990.300 


8,618,500 


3.585 


7,388 


10,353 


1,147,613 


2.831,450 


6.004 


8.193 


10,<J3i3 


2.261,419 


4,843,288 


1,578 


3,467 


9,310 


1.743.200 


8.877,250 


1,711 


5.130 


7.896 


1,864,323 


3.987.420 


242 


2,1^ 


8.257 


1.450.000 


2.9-3:2X) 


8,034 


18.611 


41.6ri3 


4,15C>,3C0 


11 255:350 


8,2a5 


11 .484 


21i3T 


2.745.2X) 


7.189.150 


4,051 


8 594 


17,1'>5 


1.993,550 


4.1S5.240 


4,2?2 


10.358 


17 756 


1,871.000 


4.622^75 




12.647 


16.2a5 


2,343,750 


4.918.225 


1515 


9..387 


14..312 


©0,000 


2.0O3.1.5'3 


8,012 


9.038 


10.769 


1,.331.0C>9 


8.108.270 


1.443 


6,603 


9,443 


2,628.13i 


6.813:&1 


3.yxi 


2,979 


8.9.JO 


1.9n,8:J2 


3.9.34,1^5 


115,4.5^ 


161.044 


218.900 


68,340,586 


159,270,049 


17.<'i34 


4-3.417 


93.915 


4AJ-y.K'M 


127.375,500 


3 32> 


1.3.796 


31.6&2 


5-2o0.0CO 


14.128,500 


17,%=2 


18.692 


81,336 


8.325.0X1 


19,875,0C'0 


10.97'' 


20.081 


3 1,867 


6.240,325 


14,3n,225 


10,^1 


9.316 


14,523 


2,116:587 


4,962.180 


7.314 


7.007 


12.0.!5 


3,<:o:'.ooo 


5.200,000 


3.210 


7,227 


ll.i:6 


4.128.575 


12,rX)6,155 


4.011 


6.273 


10,522 


1.817340 


4.311,2^ 


6,144 


6,157 


10,2rj7 


2,106.UJJ 


5,210,255 


IJj-^ 


9.232 


10,0L3 


2,819.32.5 


6,173,124 


sIko 


3..520 


10.01: 


2-587,640 


6,031.240 


21,019 


45.619 


79,588 


18,330,000 


62,185.00'3 


3,147 


g,0» 


16.5(;'7 


2.725.000 


6,918,0(0 


4.147 


4,799 


U,4t8 


1,976,500 


4,128,000 


3,254 


6,070 


9,1?0 


1.752,000 


3,740,500 


500 


3.001 


11.349 


2,.568.000 


7 051,000 


3//J6 


6,213 


8.448 


1.843,500 


4,163,000 


20,071 


45,245 


71.439 


11.275,000 


28,645.000 


3.400 


6,611 


13.WI 


2,193,780 


4,285,000 


2,500 


6,086 
534 


12,675 






I.IXJ 


650,000 


1,384/X)0 


2,014 


5.4-50 


12.7n 






1^923 


2,275 


4.666 


425,000 


994,000 


5,107 


IXZ 


9.8-SO 






3.4.0I 


7.703 


8.791 


879.000 


2,185.000 


1,338 


10.4^-1 


20,645 


1,312,250 


8.18fi.0CO 




2,464 


10,0C<i 


250,000 


722.0^0 


656 


3.io8 


6.':'0o 


575,600 


l.<=':'7,8.33 




2.06I 


15 .Wj 


1,525,000 


8.980,500 




4,749 


9,5X» 


850,000 


1,795,000 






4,.5'Xi 


57J,000 


1,600,C»0'3 


SfliM 


8,236 


24-yXi 


1,600.000 


4,2*0,000 




714 


4.875 


200,000 


450,ri00 




2.345 


7/108 


450,000 


t;60,0CO 


34,776 


66.802 


1.=18,.361 


2a,.5fK>,000 


71,4yj,fJ00 


12,000 


13.785 


15.484 


IJJio.OOO 


3,780,000 


3.000 


3,679 


3,825 


'2yj.ooo 


700,000 




1,543 


6,740 


270,000 


8fO,000 


827 


2^74 


8,293 


1,293.000 


2,752,0CO 






S.V/J 


121 //JO 


806,000 






i,yjo 


50.fX» 


150.f»00 


4,M6 


4.635 


6,600 


110.000 


Z^O.fpfK) 




1,034 


8,000 


l«).Of«) 


470.000 






4.800 


185,000 


6<^i,fifO 






8.900 


370.<ViO 


8f!9.f«^>0 






8,7':'0 


9»5.0^ 


2,50ft.0f-0 




458 


6^X1 


22->.000 


660,000 



TACLE5 OF POPCLATIOX. 





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XoTE. — The vew 1S45 and the periods eirlier thaxi 179."> are taken &vm State eaiimeranons, acd frcn ether ?onrc«s 
of inftrmation. 

• Population of the »tUement. 

t State fen-«u? of 1^52. 

J Errrirs were made in Boston and Xcw OrleAns in 1*4^. mde-es*i^-\tiTis the popul^t5•^n m the fir^t city, as pro-re-l 
br Mr Shatriirk, to the extent of aixjut S,C«X) ; and OT^eresti mating it in New Oriaans, &$ proT^d by Dr. Barton, bv »t ;«&<« 
10 000 or 15,000. 



